


Limerence

by CheersCafe



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, References to Canon, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheersCafe/pseuds/CheersCafe
Summary: After his horrible experiences in his past school, Saihara is ready to enter Saishuu Academy and start anew. Now all he has to do is fit in. Easy. Or so he thinks.It isn't long before a classmate of his starts hanging around him more and more and more, practically existing around him like a benevolent shadow. What's his deal, anyway? It isn't like he asked for the attention, but then again, he's not saying he minds, either.Basically a fluffy, loving, and supportive high school au where kids don't have to worry about killing each other. :D





	1. First Meetings and New Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sees that Ouma/Saihara is not a "common" relationship tag yet and therefore can't be filtered*  
> *Rolls up sleeves*  
> Well we're just gonna have to do something about that then. 
> 
> Keep in mind this was written before the English release of the game, or even an English walkthrough. Some characterizations/facts will be different!
> 
> Also TW for mentions of bullying. Nothing bad yet but stay safe! ♡

_New school, new you. There's nothing to fear. Nothing to fear, nothing to fear. Everything will be fine. This isn't the first time you've introduced itself and it certainly won't be the last. Everything will be fine, right?_  
  
Saihara Shuuichi was currently waiting in the hallway outside his new classroom, convincing himself that transferring to a new school, in a new city, halfway through the year was _not_ something to freak out about. This was a common practice, tons of people transfer schools. This is fine. These people didn't even know him. They had no agenda against him and it was going to be fine.  
  
He had come from a smaller-yet-not-cozy-small high school where everyone knew everyone but not on a close enough level to always care. It allowed people to witness drama and bullying but not be familiar enough to justify getting involved. He supposed that system had been kind to others... it certainly hadn't been to him.  
  
It had started off small. His peers had constantly teased his appearance, his studiousness, his reluctance to go out and drink with the rest of them at any given opportunity they could. He must have been an easy target: his face hadn't refined into the masculine jaw that his classmates had obtained, nor did his shoulders broaden to a significant degree to allow his masculinity to be apparent. He was constantly mistaken as a girl. He tried to assure himself that they were honest mistakes, but after weeks and weeks of the same misunderstanding from the same people, added onto the fact that their expressions were sneering, he had to come to the conclusion that they meant it on purpose.  
  
It was fine, really. He was never close enough friends with any of them to begin with.  
  
...Or, it was, until–  
  
Saihara shook his head. Now was not the time to start that train of thought. _It's okay_ , he thought, _the people here look nicer_.  
  
Which was true. He had seen various faces on the campus that morning, smiling and cheerful and not a shred of malice in them. _This time_ , he thought, _this time will be different._  
  
_It has to be. No, I'll make sure it is!_  
  
He breathed deeply. This was nothing to worry about. All he had to do was to introduce himself and fit in. Easy. Yet despite his self-reassurances, Saihara still pulled on the bill of his hat until it was over his eyes. _Oh god_ , he thought. _There are so many ways this can go wrong, aren't there?_  
  
A sound abruptly crashed Saihara's train of thought. He looked to his left to see two kids half-running toward him. One had extremely pale hair and was chasing after another boy with short and flippy dark hair.  
  
_Kids? In a high school?_  
  
The pale-blonde shouted as the other boy laughed. "Ouma-kun! Please return my wrench to me! I need it for my fourth-period elective!"  
  
"Not until you promise to build me a super-cool robot arm, Kiibo-chan!"  
  
'Ouma' continued to laugh heartily as he waved the other's wrench around, seemingly not concerned that he was waving around a _wrench_ that could seriously hurt somebody. Saihara just stared.  
  
_So, they aren't kids? They're my age? They're wearing the uniform... Could they be my classmates?_  
  
Saihara was so shocked by the display that he hadn't noticed the dark-haired boy coming up to him. The boy stopped and turned to him, expression completely wiped clean of the mirth it had previously. "Huh? Who are you?"  
  
Saihara's previously forgotten nerves flooded his senses. It was happening already? He wasn't prepared at all. _No, no, I can do this_ , he thought. He breathed out before responding, "I'm your new classmate... I think."  
  
The boy (Ousa? Ouka?) hummed, still standing in place a few feet from Saihara. His classmate, on the other hand, had not forgotten his quest to retrieve his wrench and yanked it from the boy's grasp before he could retaliate.  
  
He gasped and pouted, "Kiibo-chan! Not fair!"  
  
"You weren't paying attention, it was clearly fair game," 'Kiibo' replied tactfully.  
  
"Booring."  
  
Saihara couldn't help but stare. This was so much more different from where he was before. His past classmates would have just walked off without sparing him a glance. _What kind of place is this academy?_  
  
The pale-blonde noticed Saihara staring at the both of them, awkwardly standing by the doorway. "Oh! A new classmate? So you're the transfer I was hearing about." He stuck out his hand to Saihara before smiling broadly. "My name is Iidabashi Kiibo! It's nice to meet you!"  
  
Saihara smiled faintly before returning the gesture and shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you too, Iidabashi-kun."  
  
"Oh, please call me Kiibo! Everyone else does."  
  
Saihara started to relax. Such familiarity on the first day was a good sign, right? "Okay, Kiibo-kun. My name is–"  
  
"Ah! No fair! I wanna introduce myself next!"  
  
Saihara found his hand jostled out of Kiibo's grip and into a new one. Compared to the polite firmness of Kiibo's hand, this boy had clasped Saihara's hands in both of his warmly. Saihara looked up from his hands to see his new classmate with a bright sparkle in his eyes. "Woow, your hands are so soft!"  
  
"Eh-?" Saihara blushed a little. That wasn't something people just said out loud. _Who is this kid?_ "Uh, you are–?"  
  
"Oh that's right! I haven't said my name yet. Though with the way Kiibo-chan was shouting it I wouldn't be surprised if you already knew it by now," The boy giggled.  
  
"That's because you had taken my wrench!" Kiibo harshly reminded him.  
  
Saihara tried to piece it together. He had thought he heard–  
  
"Ouma...kun?" Saihara tried. "Is that your name?"  
  
"Yeess! You got it!" Ouma cheered. "My name is Ouma Kokichi. I'm super amazing! Did you know I once survived a whole month without food by only living on fruity soda?"  
  
Saihara stopped. _That's... ridiculous. That can't be true... can it?_  
  
Kiibo sighed. "It's a lie."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Yuuup! It was a lie. I'm a liar after all."  
  
_Well then_. Saihara sighed. What kind of person responds so cheerfully when getting called out on an obvious lie?  
  
"By the way, you haven't introduced yourself yet," Ouma continued. "You're not gonna be rude and make your classmates wait, are you?"  
  
Oh, shoot. He had completely forgotten. Saihara almost reached for the bill of his hat but remembered that his hand was still in Ouma's grasp. He steeled himself before looking the two in the eyes and introducing himself.  
  
"I'm Saihara Shuuichi. I came here from a different school. It's...nice to meet you both." He finished. _There, that wasn't bad_ , he thought.  
  
"Yes! Welcome to Saishuu Academy," Kiibo said, beaming at him.  
  
"Hmmm Saihara-chan, huh?" Ouma was wearing an expression somewhere between a smirk and a genuine smile, eyes crinkled at the edges. Saihara stared at it. _What is he-?_  
  
"Anyway, I can't see your face very well with that dumb hat in the way."  
  
Saihara had barely any warning before Ouma tugged on his hand. Saihara fell forward slightly as Ouma arched his face up so it was right in Saihara's face, underneath his hat.  
  
Saihara stood there, uncomprehending the change in situation. He was suddenly staring into the dark, warm eyes of his classmate and _when did he get so close close close–_  
  
"Woooow, Kiibo-chan, Saihara-chan's eyes are gray! I've never seen anything like it!"  
  
"Wh-" Saihara couldn't help it; he blushed. _What is happening? What is happening?!_  
  
Saihara was saved from further embarrassment when Kiibo pulled on Ouma's shoulders, effectively dislodging their hands. "Don't mind him Saihara-kun, Ouma-kun can be a bit... invasive."  
  
"Hehe, I couldn't help it!" Ouma grinned, as if it was all one big game to him.  
  
Kiibo pushed Ouma towards the classroom door and opened it. "I hope you'll forgive him, Saihara-kun. Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I await to see you in class!" Kiibo declared with a smile after pushing Ouma and then himself fully through the door.  
  
Silence ensured before Saihara breathed a sigh of relief. _It's only the first day and these are the kind of people I'm meeting..._  
  
Saihara jolted when a head bobbed out of the open doorway. Ouma was staring at him with a blank expression. He then smiled blindingly.  
  
"It was amazing to meet you, Saihara-chan! I look forward to getting to know you this year~!" Ouma then closed the door, leaving Saihara once again in silence.  
_  
__...Well that was... something._

—

Saihara had quickly and successfully introduced himself to the class once the lesson had started. His teacher had been unassuming and kind, placing him in the back of the classroom where the open seats were. That was a small relief. At least now if he made a big mistake, not as many people would notice. His hat had been taken off for the day in accordance with the school code and safely placed in his shoe locker.  
  
At lunch all of his classmates had introduced themselves and had vowed to make him feel welcome. A classmate who introduced himself as Momota had instantly placed an arm around his shoulders, deemed Saihara as "a trustworthy individual," and accepted him as a friend right off. A red-haired girl named Yumeno had told him about a magic trick she was preparing to welcome him into the class, and an enthusiastic individual named Yonaga had offered up a prayer to her god to bless his initiation (what god and religion that was, Saihara still wasn't sure). Gokuhara, a large muscular classmate of his ( _How is he only in high school?_ ) had even offered to give him a tour of the school gardens, ranting on the various bug types present there. Apparently he was an insect enthusiast?  
  
All in all his classmates had ensured a warm welcome and Saihara couldn't be happier about it. Things really were starting to look up.  
  
Currently he was walking beside a girl named Akamatsu Kaede, who had piano clips in her hair and a gentle smile always present on her face. She offered a tour around campus, which Saihara had gratefully accepted.  
  
Apparently, this academy was well-funded. There were various classrooms that dealt with music, art, science, and various other fields of study. The gym had a pool, rooms for boxing and martial arts, and there were even rooms for sports like tennis and badminton. The library was full of books and shelves that climbed several stories. Saihara had been in awe. _Am I really going to school here? In this amazing place?_  
  
He and Akamatsu were currently walking to the cafeteria (or what he assumed was the way to the cafeteria, since Akamatsu was leading). She had asked him all sorts of questions, about his likes and dislikes, what kind of movies he watched and what hobbies he had, and she had responded with interesting facts about herself in turn. They were getting along swimmingly and he appreciated her overflowing kindness. He was already beginning to see her as a close friend.  
  
Saihara casually mentioned his interest in criminal mystery novels, to which Akamatsu cheerfully replied, "With all the books in the library, you'll be sure to find some good mystery novels!"  
  
The conversation kept progressing smoothly and Saihara began to relax a little. He had nothing to worry about. Her questions had been prodding, but not invasive. Right, as long as she didn't ask him why he transferred–  
  
"So, why did you transfer?"  
  
_Well, crud._ This wasn't a question he wanted to answer now. Or ever. _Why can’t people just forget about it completely?_  
  
Saihara let out a small breath, coming up with the most believable white lie he could. "Um... my father had a job change."  
  
"Oh, cool."  
  
_Phew_. That seemed to do the trick. Hopefully people would stop asking about it. It technically wasn't a lie: his father had come to the new city to work. The reason for transferring jobs however... that was a bit more than Saihara was willing to let his classmates know just yet.  
  
Akamatsu turned to him and smiled disarmingly. "Well, for whatever reason you came here Saihara-kun, we're glad to have you!"  
  
Saihara could feel his stress slipping away as he smiled back. _Yeah... maybe I can make a new start here._

—

The day had ended and all of his classes had progressed smoothly. Saihara was immensely relieved that his classmates were so warm-hearted and accepting. With a smile on his face Saihara exited the classroom with his bag and headed down to the shoe lockers. Akamatsu had accompanied him with an offer to walk together until she had to go to her piano lesson studio.  
  
Akamatsu continued to ramble on about their classmates. "Shinguuji-kun may be a bit quiet, but he'll tell you anything you want to know about folklore. He's amazing! And Iruma-san might have a foul mouth but she means well. Maki-chan _–_ er, that is _–_ Harukawa-san, isn't standoffish at all really, she's just shy! I'm sure you'll fit in in no time."  
  
"Thank you, Akamatsu-san," Saihara smiled back. "I really do appreciate all you're doing for me."  
  
"Don't mention it!"  
  
Saihara stopped in front of his locker and slid open the hatch. There were his shoes, right as he...  
  
_...Huh?_  
  
"Akamatsu-san," Saihara asked, "Have you seen my hat anywhere?"  
  
"Your hat?" Akamatsu asked in surprise. "No, I haven't. You said you put it in your shoe locker right?"  
  
"Yes, I remember doing so..."  
  
"Maybe it's back in the classroom?" she offered.  
  
Saihara sighed. "I'll go check there. You can go on Akamatsu-san, I know you have a piano lesson to get to."  
  
"You sure? I don't mind..." She trailed off.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Saihara assured. "I'll just check around briefly. I'm sure it's around here somewhere."

—

 _Of course, of course it has to be lost on the first day of school._  
  
Saihara had searched the hallway, the bathrooms, and all the other places he had visited. He continued to scrounge in the classroom, checking in corners and under desks. No luck.  
  
He let out an aggravated huff. _I need to find it soon, otherwise I won't be able to make it in time._  
  
He decided to search under the desks, again, when someone came to look in the open doorway. "Hmm? Saihara-chan, what are you doing here?"  
  
_Oh, it's Ouma._ "Nothing, Ouma-kun. I'm just trying to find my hat."  
  
"Your hat, huh?"  
  
"Yes, I remember putting it in my shoe locker but-"  
  
Saihara had turned to face Ouma and saw exactly what he had been looking for. There was his hat, right between Ouma's fingers. Ouma noticed his gaze and waved the hat around playfully. "Oh, you mean this hat?"  
  
"...Yes."  
  
"Well Saihara-chan, I'm kind of fond of your hat. I thought I'd find it if I looked in your shoe locker." Ouma looked proud with his reasoning.  
  
"You... stole it from my shoe locker?"  
  
"Yup! I did! Hey, are you mad? How badly do you want it? Are you going to chase me for it?" Ouma grinned.  
  
Saihara blinked. He couldn't understand what was happening. The day had been going so well yet-  
  
The memories flashed through his head as he suppressed a shudder. Classmates holding his books and bag above him, taunting him, kicking his stomach as he tried reaching for his belongings, only to pour out his bag's contents on top of him when they'd had their fun. Their words rang through his head.  
  
_Come on, Saihara, can't you reach it? What's wrong, too much of a girl to fight for it?_  
  
_Aw, look at that, he can't even stand up! What a loser._  
  
_Hahaha, hey, do you mind if I borrow your pen? I lost mine, see, and you can't even stand up to reclaim it..._  
  
_Haha, hey wimp, are your parents proud of such a failure?_  
  
Saihara felt the anxiety creep in. _No, no... I can't let this happen again. This isn't like last time. No, I_ won't _let this happen again._  
  
Drawing in a breath, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he calmly walked over to Ouma, who was simply staring at him. Saihara stopped in front of Ouma and held out his hand.  
  
"I want my hat back, please."  
  
The two stared at each other. Ouma had no traceable emotion on his face. He simply stared at Saihara as he remained firmly in place.  
  
Moments passed, and Saihara was starting to wonder what was wrong. _I'm pretty sure he heard me correctly. Is he going to decide? Do I need to ask again?_  
  
Saihara was about to request his hat once more when Ouma's expression changed. His eyes widened and his smile curled until his face was practically beaming with joy.  
  
That was... not what Saihara was expecting.  
  
Before he could question it, however, Ouma lunged forward and placed his hat haphazardly on his head, the bill pulled down so much it effectively blinded him. Saihara stumbled slightly.  
  
"Ah-"  
  
"Of course Saihara-chan! If you didn't want to play with me, all you had to do was say so!"  
  
_Playing? Is that what this is?_  
  
"Anyways Saihara-chan, I don't think you even need your dorky hat. In fact, I think you look much better without it!" Ouma confidently declared.  
  
"Uh," Saihara eloquently replied. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Teasing to praise within such a short amount of time?  
  
Ouma, however, was unaffected by Saihara's confusion. "Bye bye Saihara-chan! Tomorrow I'll be sure to think of even more fun games to play. See ya!"  
  
Ouma left, closing the doorway behind him, leaving a shocked and slightly flustered classmate behind him.

—

Ouma walked down the hallway of the school, almost giddy with excitement. _How unexpected!_  
  
He had seen Saihara's attachment to his hat and had decided to play around a little. _After all_ , he thought, _if it's so much fun to make Kiibo-chan chase after his things, maybe it'll be fun with Saihara-chan too!_  
  
It was easy. All he had to do was take his hat, and then the fun would begin. When he waved Saihara's hat in front of him like a taunt, he had expected a chase, maybe even a distressed plea to return it.  
  
He hadn't expected Saihara's face to pale, and certainly hadn't expected his eyes to have a touch of fear. _Fear? Was it fear?_  
  
What had surprised him the most, however, were Saihara's actions.  
  
After the fear, Saihara had calmly walked over and asked for his hat back. He held his shoulders high and looked into Ouma's eyes resolutely, unflinching. There was no fear or wavering resolve in his expression. It had caught Ouma off-guard.  
  
Ouma had seen a spark. A spark that lied in Saihara's gaze. Behind the timidity and the lack of confidence lay someone who would rise to the occasion. Someone who could overcome even the darkest moments of life, someone who would face tragedy head on, someone who would stick by his beliefs no matter the circumstances. The person he saw (no, _glimpsed_ ) was a man of confidence and willpower. Someone who would not bow down to anything or anyone.  
  
He hadn't expected it. He hadn't predicted it. It had been _exciting_.  
  
Ouma was practically bouncing his way out of the school now. _Hey, who are you, Saihara-chan?_ Ouma thought as he started to skip. _What are you capable of? I can't wait to find out!_  
  
Ouma let out a breathy giggle as he exited the school, eagerly awaiting the next day that was already full of possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I really enjoyed writing this. If you see any mistakes let me know and I'll fix them! Also please leave comments I love to see them. 
> 
> Some notes about the chapter:  
> \- Limerence: (n) 1. the state of being infatuated with another person, 2. the overwhelming feeling when your love for another person is reciprocated  
> \- Kiibo and Ouma's interactions, and even Ouma and Saihara's interactions, were based on when Kaede first met Kiibo and Ouma. Ouma and Saihara's interactions were also based on their love hotel scene that I've seen translated (the part where they speak).  
> \- I based Kiibo's last name on the professor that made him in canon. I had Saihara switch to calling him Kiibo because I'm pretty sure even I'll get confused if we use that last name for long...  
> \- In this Au Ouma is not mentally ill (at least like he is in canon) and there is no killing game, just kids being normal high schoolers. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> \- And yes, they are wearing uniforms to this school in the Au. If you need an idea, the clothes they wore in the prologue are a good reference.  
> \- More characters will be featured, just be patient! 
> 
> And just because there are so few Ouma/Saihara fanart right now, I'll see if I can post some fanart that inspired me with every chapter I do! Here's the first one: http://emubirb.tumblr.com/post/155310356005/if-youre-taking-requests-could-you-draw
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it! See you next chapter! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ


	2. Growing Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thank you all for your comments and kudos... I blushi (〃ω〃)
> 
> I'm sorry for the lateness of this chapter, I hit several roadblocks and had like, 2 midterms and a major project due last week... boi I die.  
> Also fixed some names and formatting from the last chapter. I got Gokuhara's name wrong gomen m(_ _)m
> 
> Anyway enjoy this!! I'm really glad I pulled through despite the rough process! :D
> 
> Just in case: TW for more bullying and a comatose patient in this chapter. :(

"Hello, mother."  
  
Saihara walked into the empty room, sitting in a chair pulled up beside a bed. His mother lay still, her bony arms hooked up to tubes and IVs, a steady monitor beeping periodically nearby. Her face was shallow and pale as the fog of a winter morning. Her eyes were still shut, no matter how much Saihara wished they would open.  
  
Saihara placed his bag down and started recalling his day. After Ouma had left him in the classroom, he had to rush to get on the train. The trip took half an hour, and after the train stopped he had to walk for a while to reach the local hospital. The nurses greeted him as he walked through the hallways to his mother's room in the comatose ward. His time with her would have to be cut a bit short since he had to search for his hat, but it would be enough.  
  
Seeing his lively mother reduced to a shell of what she had been was never easy. Saihara's eyes would play tricks on him. He'd think he'd see her hand twitch only to see that it hadn't. His mind would tell him she was smiling, only for his vision to tell him otherwise. Saihara thought that his hopes would stop tainting the cold reality eventually, but it never did.  
  
It had been months.  
  
Saihara settled in the chair and took a breath before beginning. "I started school today, mother. The people at the academy are kind. I think you would have liked them."  
  
Back when his mother was on her feet, she would always encourage him to mingle with other children. Saihara would have much preferred to sit in the reading corner, but her insistence always made him try. She would remember all the names he told her, all the fun games he played, all the books he read, and all the crayon drawings he made for her. She hung every one of them on the walls and on the fridge.  
  
She had been a sun in his life. In her absence all that was left was a dark night sky filled with stars and brief flashes, but nothing as bright.  
  
Saihara continued. "The new town is wonderful too. The streets are clean and people seem happier than where we were before. It's... so much better."  
  
Saihara and his father had moved to the new town in order to take care of her. After months of care the hospital in their old town had decided that they were discontinuing the comatose patient ward due to lack of funding. All patients who had been there longer than a month were no longer provided for.  
  
His father had been heartbroken. Ever since the day she was admitted, his father had tightly held onto the belief that she would wake up. Every day he came in during his lunch break to give her new flowers. He worked overtime to pay for her hospital bills. Saihara had believed she would wake up in the beginning as well but... he was starting to lose hope.  
  
Saihara looked out the window to the setting sun. It was beautiful, and not as painful as looking at the person beside him. "The library there is well-stocked. It reaches up three stories, can you believe it? It's quite different from the cramped library we used to visit on the weekends."  
  
Saihara looked at her face. The scars of the car accident had long healed, but traces of them still remained. Months of seeing her like this had not changed how out-of-place the scars looked on her forehead.  
  
The crash had involved a truck ramming head-on to his mother's car, the impact slamming her head against the windshield and dislodging her seatbelt. The medics had found her on the ground, head drenching the pavement with blood. Even with quick-to-respond hospital staff and a medical center a few blocks away, only so much could be done. When Saihara and his dad had arrived, she lay deathly pale and unmoving. Breathing, but still.  
  
She had not woken up since.  
  
The doctors they had spoken to had done their best. _Her brain is simply too damaged_ , they had said. _She was lucky to have survived._ _  
  
_ _She may never wake up._  
  
Saihara was inconsolable. Word went around the school about what had happened, and his classmates all but jumped on the opportunity. He was too mournful to put up a fight anymore. If Saihara wasn't an easy target for bullying before, he certainly was now.  
  
The attacks were relentless.  
  
Instead of sneers and insults, he received harsh shoves into his locker, thick fingers yanking his hair, and sharpie scribbles all over his desk. Occaisonally a peer would add a crude drawing to match the memorabilia of their enmity.  
  
Telling the teachers did nothing. They all assured him that ' _Boys are just at that age_ ,' and that ' _The girls at this school would never say such a thing_ ,' and ' _Aren't you overreacting_?'. After the first few attempts of alerting authorities, Saihara stopped trying. He feared the retribution from his bullies for tattling far more than he longed for any "help" his teachers would offer him at that point.  
  
His only solace was his walk directly to the hospital from school after the day. He would sit next to his mother's bedside and just talk; about his dad, about his classes, about the flowers he saw blooming on his way to school. Anything to take his mind off the fact that she was _comatose_ and _silent_ and _not here with me._ _  
_  
Saihara looked back at the window and to the clock. The last touches of orange from the sky were fading. He would have to go soon.  
  
Saihara took hold of his mother's hand. It was cold and dry. "I... wish you were here, mother," he whispered. "Things would be so much better with you here."  
  
He packed up his things and paused faced her. "Please wake up soon."  
  
He looked at her figure from the doorway for a long time before leaving the room. 

—

Stepping through the doorway Saihara sighed, exhaustion catching up to him. It really had been a long day.  
  
He slipped off his shoes and made his way over to the common area. The apartment was small. Two bedrooms for him and his father, along with a bathroom and a kitchenette attached to the living area. It would seem cosy for some, but Saihara welcomed its simplicity. It felt like a break compared to the chaos of moving.  
  
He noticed a note on the table and picked it up.  
  
_Shuuichi,  
  
Gone to work overtime.  
Be sure to eat and get to bed on time.  
  
Love, Dad _  
  
Saihara set down the note and began to make dinner. He'd later put the leftovers in their refrigerator for his father to eat. By the time Saihara had eaten dinner, cleaned up, done his homework, and settled into bed, his father still hadn't returned home.

—

"Thank you for showing me around, Gokuhara-kun."  
  
"Well, thank you for coming to talk to Gonta!"  
  
Saihara, though a bit confused by his manner of speaking, was glad he had taken Gokuhara up on his offer. The gardens were bursting with life, green filling his vision. It was a wonder the school could afford such an expanse of land for just a garden. _Really_ , Saihara thought, _how much funding does this school have?_  
  
He continued. "Even so, Gokuhara-kun, I really appreciate it. Every day I am surprised with what this school has to offer."  
  
"Of course! Saishuu Academy prides itself in all matters of study!" Gokuhara beamed.  
  
The two continued walking the cobblestone path in the garden. The scenery changed from flowers to ferns to exotic trees. The two were just passing a collection of hydrangea bushes when-  
  
"Stop where you are, Saihara-kun!"  
  
Saihara gasped,  "Gokuhara-kun?!"  
  
Gokuhara had placed a broad arm in front of Saihara's path, halting him in his steps. He then stooped right to where Saihara had been about to step and picked up what looked to be a tiny beetle walking along the cobblestone path.  
  
"You almost killed this beetle Saihara-kun!" He admonished with a ferocity Saihara had previously thought impossible for his well-mannered classmate.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see..."  
  
Gokuhara seemed to accept this apology with a nod and turned to the critter in his hands. The beetle had been stationary, but started to crawl around on his palm. Saihara inspected further and noticed that though the beetle's wings were copper, the back and head were an emerald green. The colors shone in the afternoon sun.  
  
"This little one... they call it a Japanese Beetle," Gokuhara responded when he noticed Saihara looking.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes! They only live about a year. Since this one's already an adult, it may only have a couple months left. Gonta loves all insects, but this one is one of his favorites."  
  
Gokuhara lifted up his hands and the beetle flew out of them back into the garden. Saihara thought as he watched the action. _I actually don't know much about Gokuhara-kun besides his love of insects... maybe I should try to bond?_  
  
"Gokuhara-kun, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come to love bugs so much?"  
  
"Huh? Why?" Gokuhara's face turned dark as his eyes lit ablaze with anger. Gokuhara suddenly looked much bigger and much more fearsome than he did even two seconds before. "Do you hate bugs? Did you intend to step on that beetle from before?"  
  
_Yikes!!_ "No, no Gokuhara-kun!" Saihara backpedaled. He waved his hands out in front of him frantically, trying to ease the situation, "I was just wondering!"  
  
"Oh, really? Then in that case Gonta would be happy to tell!" His ominous expression vanished in an instant and was replaced with a dazzling smile.  
  
Gokuhara then proceeded to tell Saihara all about his days when he was young and played in the woods by his house. He had a pack of wolves that he bonded with when he was little that he considered his family, in addition to his parents. Saihara was more than a little shocked that his classmate had somehow managed to get an _entire_ pack of _feral_ wolves to take care of and play with a human child, but Saihara did his best to accept the ridiculous story. Gokuhara wasn't the type to make up a story like that anyway.  
  
Gokuhara went on to talk about how most beautiful bug landed on his hand one day, and he was in love with insects ever since. He would observe them in the woods and write down his findings in journals he kept at his house. He informed Saihara he had just finished his twentieth journal and was now starting his twenty-first. It was his crown achievement.  
  
As he and Gokuhara continued to walk down the path again, Saihara continually glanced over at Gokuhara. His form was massive. Saihara could tell that he had lots of muscle. It was no mistake that Gokuhara was male, his jawline sharp and shoulders broad, despite his long and mangy hair.  
  
Saihara wondered. Back at school he had constantly been ridiculed for being weak and frail. His height wasn't impressive and neither was his strength. Saihara hated that he was mistaken for a girl. _I'm a boy and people seem to accept me as such here_ , he thought. _Still, I want to look like one too. I don't want people to mistake me for a girl anymore. I can't do anything about my body structure but... maybe building some muscle will help?_ _  
  
...Would Gokuhara-kun know anything about that? _  
  
Saihara paused to get his wording right before speaking. "...Gokuhara-kun, would you mind if I asked you something?"  
  
"Not at all! A gentleman provides his services to all worthy favors."  
  
Saihara hesitated. He did want to change, and here was his opportunity. All he had to do was ask. _Gokuhara-kun's not scary. Unless if it comes to bugs. I mean, the worst he can do is say 'no'... aside from physical assault. But I don't think he'd hate me if I asked something like this..._  
  
Saihara gathered his courage before continuing. "Would you... mind showing me how you gain muscle?"  
  
"Muscle? Are you wanting to defend your wolf family too?"  
  
_What?_ "Er, no, Gokuhara-kun. The truth is I haven't been very strong my whole life, and I've been meaning to become stronger... but I'm not sure how to do that."  
  
"Oh! If that's what you wanted Gonta would be happy to indulge in this request," Gokuhara responded. "Gonta can definitely show you how he sustains his figure!"  
  
Saihara let out a sigh of relief. _That was much easier than I thought it would be._ "Thank you Gokuhara-kun... would tomorrow morning before school work?"  
  
"Yes!" Gokuhara exclaimed. "Let us meet in the student athlete gym!"  
  
Saihara smiled brightly. He was finally going to start achieving his goals.

—

"Hey, Saihara!"  
  
"Huh? What is it Momota-kun?"  
  
Class had just ended in time for lunch and Saihara had intended to search for a place to sit alone. He wasn't sure where any secluded spots were, but figured he'd try anyway. He didn't want to intrude on other people's spaces... he knew that lunch circles had long been formed. There wasn't room for him anywhere today.  
  
Momota came up to his desk and grinned widely. "Do you want to join us for lunch? Akamatsu, Kiibo, Harukawa, and I often sit together. We could use an extra!"  
  
Or not.  
  
Relief and joy washed over him as he offered a small smile back. "I would love to, Momota-kun."  
  
Momota grinned more and jerked his thumb to the door. "Well c'mon then! Bring your lunch."  
  
Saihara nodded and picked up his food as he followed Momota out the door. Saihara continued to smile as he thought. _It feels really nice to be included. I didn't think I'd get to enjoy this here._  
  
Momota led him up the steps from their floor and up to the roof. It was a bright sunny day, and plenty warm enough to enjoy the sunlight without a jacket. The gentle breeze tousled his hair, the effect soothing. _Well, there are some nice things about not wearing my hat, I guess._  
  
Saihara saw Akamatsu sitting alongside Harukawa and Kiibo, all with their lunches out and beginning to eat. Kiibo also had some spare tools lying around and seemed to be working on a small contraption.  
  
Momota sat beside Kiibo while Saihara settled down beside Akamatsu at the end.  
  
"Saihara-kun!" Akamatsu smiled with radiance. "I'm so happy you could join us!"  
  
Saihara smiled back. "I'm happy to join you. Thank you for inviting me, Momota-kun."  
  
"Hey, no worries!"  
  
Saihara began to take out his lunch. He noticed the rest had a variety of food in their laps. Momota was enjoying what looked like a chicken sandwhich, while Akamatsu began to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, accompanied by an apple. Harukawa had taken out of thermos of steaming soup. Kiibo, on the other hand, was too focused on his device to eat anything besides a brightly colored sports drink and some chips. _Is he getting enough nutrition?_ Saihara wondered idly.  
  
Saihara opened up his lunch and picked up his chopsticks. He was about to start eating when he heard a gasp.  
  
"Saihara-kun, your lunch is so beautiful!"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
Akamatsu was gazing at his bento box with wonder, her face completely overflowing with amazement. Saihara was confused at that. He didn't think his lunch was all that great.  
  
He had split the meal into carbs, proteins, and some fruit and vegetables, like he usually did. His lunch today consisted of rice with sesame seeds on one side, tamago rolls and ham he had cooked in the morning, along with some edamame and strawberries. Saihara didn't even have time to make an extravagant lunch since he had to get to school early to see the gardens with Gokuhara. This was just pulling together what remained in the fridge for the week. What exactly was 'amazing' about it?  
  
Momota had leaned over to see what the commotion was about. "Woah, Saihara, she's right! Your lunch looks amazing! Way better than what any of us got here!"  
  
Saihara thought he saw Harukawa scowl in his peripheral vision. He hoped she wasn't mad. "Er, you think so?" he prompted warily.  
  
"Yes!" Akamatsu nodded enthusiastically, eyes transfixed on the food. She then looked at Saihara with wonder. "Who made this? Did you buy it? You had to have! The arrangement's too perfect!"  
  
Now Saihara was blushing. This was too much praise to handle all at once. "Ah, no, I made this, actually."  
  
Slowly all four sets of eyes turned to his. Even Kiibo stopped working on his project to look Saihara in the eyes. _Shoot. That wasn't what I wanted. This isn't weird, is it?_  
  
Everyone started talking at once.  
  
"What?! That's incredible!"  
  
"Unbelievable..."  
  
"Dude! How? I couldn't even make this if I tried!"  
  
"Saihara-kun, that display is most impressive!"  
  
Saihara was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He started talking and hoped they would understand if he just explained. "N-No, you're wrong, it's just a habit I formed over the years," he fumbled over his words.  
  
"Every day? Before school even?"  
  
"Yes, I always make lunch for my father and myself."  
  
Saihara had always had a skill for cooking. When he was little his mother would guide him over the steps and take his little hands in hers and show him, explaining carefully why and how each step was necessary for a delicious meal. After primary school he started making his own lunches, figuring it'd be good practice for later in life.  
  
When his mom had become hospitalized, he started making all the meals for both his father and himself. It was the least he could do for how hard his father was working.  
  
"Really? What about your mother?"  
  
Saihara winced internally. He knew he'd have to come up with a coverup eventually. "She stays at home," he forced out.  
  
The group accepted his answer and settled to continue with lunch. Saihara tried not to look as relieved as he was that the attention was no longer on him.  
  
Saihara remembered the frown he had seen Harukawa wear when talking about his lunch. He hoped that things between them didn't turn out badly, whatever the reason for her displeasure would be. He didn't want to make any enemies here while being fully able to stop it.  
  
Saihara cleared his throat quietly before asking. "Oh, by the way, Harukawa-san, what did you bring for lunch?"  
  
Harukawa turned to him with an impassive stare. She held up her thermos and stated, "Miso soup."  
  
"Oh, did you make it?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
He smiled. "It smells wonderful. I always enjoy miso soup when I have it."  
  
Harukawa's eyes softened a bit as she nodded. _Oh, so she isn't mad after all_ , Saihara thought.  
  
"Yeah, it's about the only thing she can make though!"  
  
Harukawa began scowling again. Saihara looked to see Momota laughing as if he had told a joke. "Honestly, she's a menace in the kitchen otherwise. Hey, Kiibo, remember last year when she tried making a cake during Home Ec.?"  
  
"Please do not joke about that." Kiibo glanced at Momota with a grimace. "I still have phantom pains in my stomach from eating that cake. I hadn't realized a cake could take so awful."  
  
"Just because I mixed up the baking soda and the sugar..."  
  
"Guys, don't make fun of her!" Akamatsu chided, an uncharacteristically angry look on her face. "Maki-chan works very hard on her cooking! You shouldn't make fun of her."  
  
"Ah, right, right," Momota apologized. "Sorry Harukawa, I couldn't help it."  
  
Harukawa still didn't look pleased but let the matter drop. Saihara suddenly understood why she looked annoyed when Momota had praised his lunch. _Of course she wasn't happy about it,_ Saihara realized. _No one likes being made fun of for something they worked hard on._  
  
The rest of the lunch period progressed smoothly, cheerful banter accompanying the group. Kiibo had exclaimed in triumph when he had finished his project, which apparently was a voice recording machine with the ability to send voice files to computers through email. He insisted that it was much better than Iruma's recent invention, a claw grabber with an electric zap feature at the press of a button. Kiibo and Momota then engaged in a full-on debate over the pros and cons of each invention, each staunch in their stance of which was better. Kiibo's points included how it would be useful for writing essays, drafting songs and music (to which Akamatsu perked her ears to), and even having a voice-journal. Momota's arguments, aside from his points on self-defense, were mainly variations of how it would be "a wicked good pranking device."  
  
Saihara was more than comfortable watching them all. _Is this what having friends is like?_  he wondered. He gazed at the four of them, talking with each other, smiles on their faces. His mouth lifted at the corners in response.  
  
_This is... nice. Really nice._  
  
The warning bell rang and the five students packed up their lunches. As Saihara exited through the door down the stairwell, he was stopped by a voice.  
  
"Saihara."  
  
He turned to see Harukawa behind him on the stairs, slowly approaching before stopping in front of him. Her eyes were certain.  
  
Saihara began. "What is it, Harukawa-san?"  
  
Harukawa hesitated before she spoke. "I have a favor to ask of you."  
  
"A favor?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Saihara waited. Harukawa said nothing. He tried again, "Is it something I can do?"  
  
"Yes. It has to do with your cooking." Harukawa then looked down, a finger twirling her hair. Saihara recognized the nervous habit immediately. After all, he had a very similar one himself.  
  
Saihara waited as she gathered her words. He knew she must have felt vulnerable asking for such a favor. _She seems to care a lot about this_ , he mused.  
  
Harukawa looked up at him. She squared her shoulders subtly before asking directly, "Saihara... will you be my Home Economics partner?"  
  
_Home Economics class?_ "Your partner? Why?"  
  
She explained. "I'm sure you remember the conversation at lunch... I'm not the best of cooks. The only thing I can manage is miso soup. Anything else turns into a disaster when I touch it."  
  
Her expression turned remorseful. "My grade in the class is falling. I wouldn't normally care about that, but I do for this. Since there was only fifteen of us, I usually ended up alone. Everyone knows how awful I am when it comes to cooking. Kaede would help me sometimes but... I don't want to burden her with this anymore."  
  
Saihara noted the use of Akamatsu's first name. _Come to think of it, Akamatsu called her 'Maki-chan' during lunch as well. Are they close? They seem to care a lot for each other..._ _  
_  
"I see," Saihara ventured, "So you want me to teach you how to cook?"  
  
Harukawa stiffened and glanced away. _She really is nervous about this_ , Saihara thought. "I don't mind," he reassured.  
  
He waited for her until she continued. "Only... only if you want to," she mumbled.  
  
Saihara smiled. "Of course. I'd be more than happy to teach you. I don't have a partner for Home Ec. yet, so you're even doing me a favor."  
  
Harukawa smiled. "Thank you, Saihara."  
  
Saihara smiled back. "You're welcome."  
  
The two walked together down the stairwell until they reached the classroom.

—

The next day, Saihara was in pain. Okay, he knew that gaining muscle would be hard. He just didn't think it'd be _this_ hard. _Scratch that, this isn't just hard..._  
  
"I'm telling you Gokuhara-kun, this is impossible! I can't lift 300 pounds right away!"  
  
"Saihara-kun, you'll never have muscles like Gonta if you can't lift this!"  
  
Saihara was panting after trying–and failing–several times to bench press a bar with 150-pound metal weights on either side. Saihara had thought that when they went to the school gym Gokuhara would ease him into it, starting with something more reasonable. Apparently, that was too much to ask.  
  
"Gokuhara-kun, I don't think muscles work this way... I think you have to build up to something like this. "  
  
"Really?! Gonta's always been able to lift that much!"  
  
Saihara sighed. Well, so much for trying to be in better shape. He barely had any stamina to start with and just those lifts had completely drained it all. _What did Gokuhara-kun have to do in his life to think that lifting 300 pounds was easy?!_  
  
"Class is going to start soon... I think we'll have to continue this another time." Saihara sighed.  
  
"Oh... Gonta apologizes for being unable to help with your request." Gokuhara replied as he helped lift the weighted bar off of his classmate.  
  
Saihara looked at Gokuhara and saw his face had a melancholy hue. He genuinely didn't mean to discourage Saihara, he had only tried helping in the only way he knew how. Saihara's heart ached. _I don't want to leave with Gokuhara-kun feeling this way..._  
  
Saihara stood up from the bench and squared his shoulders at him. "Gokuhara-kun." His classmate looked up at Saihara's resolute gaze. "I will work up to lifting these weights with you. Please give me time. I'll find a way to build my stamina. And when I do, do you want to... continue doing weights with me?"  
  
Gokuhara's eyes widened before he smiled brilliantly at Saihara. "Of course, Saihara-kun! Nothing would make Gonta happier!"  
  
Saihara nodded and the two packed up their belongings. Gokuhara went ahead to class early while Saihara stayed behind to take a quick shower. Even those minuscule exercises had left him sweating.  
  
When he came out Saihara noticed another person heading out of the gym as well. As their paths began to cross Saihara called out to him. "Amami-kun?"  
  
"Oh, it's Saihara-kun. Nice to see you here," Amami responded cheerfully.  
  
Saihara had not gotten used to Amami yet. Sure, Amami's bubbly demeanor was charming to many but... he sensed something else. There was a way Amami held his posture and wore his expressions that told Saihara he was no pushover. His personality was happy and inviting, as long as you didn't cross some lines. Somehow he knew that should someone cross him, Amami would go above and beyond to make his enemy's life a living hell. What confused Saihara, however, was that his aura didn't come off as menacing despite these signs. Rather, it seemed almost... protective?  
  
Saihara mentally shook himself from those thoughts as he remembered Amami was right in front of him. "I see you're just coming from a workout yourself... what did you do?"  
  
Amami smiled as he pointed to himself "Me? I did a bunch of various exercises."  
  
_Various exercises?_ Saihara wondered. _Could he have something to help me?_  
  
"Amami-kun?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you have any routines for stamina?"  
  
Amami blinked. "Stamina?"  
  
Saihara nodded. "Yes. I expressed that I wanted to be stronger to Gokuhara-kun, but when I went to lift weights with him today I was out of breath in the first few minutes."  
  
Amami chuckled. "Well of course! You're supposed to be out of breath during a workout. I can't imagine lifting weights with Gokuhara-kun would be any easier either."  
  
"Oh..." Saihara's shoulders slumped slightly. He looked down at the floor. _I guess it was stupid of me to ask... now I just look dumb. Should I have not tried to get stronger after all?_ Saihara felt bitter at the thought.  
  
"To answer your question, by the way," Amami continued, unperturbed by Saihara's change in demeanor, "I find swimming to be an excellent way to build up stamina."  
  
Saihara lifted his head. "Swimming?"  
  
"Yes. It's a full-body workout and it's easy on the joints. It's a great place to start for beginners."  
  
Amami then smiled at him before walking past him to the door. _This is it_ , Saihara thought while watching his classmate go by. A strong hope began to flow through him. _I finally have a way to build up my stamina!_  
  
"Amami-kun!" Saihara turned and raised his voice to the figure opening the door. Amami paused and looked over his shoulder at Saihara. "Thank you!"  
  
Amami grinned and waved as he closed the door behind him.

—

 _Mistake, mistake, mistake_ , Saihara chanted in his head as he completed his pushups. _I should've looked up today's schedule earlier!_  
  
Had Saihara checked, he would've seen that it was that special day of the week where instead of an elective, the entire class had physical fitness. Unfortunately for him, he didn't. He had been completely unaware. Which, would have been fine for Saihara had he not been still _sore_ from lifting weights with Gokuhara in the morning. _I'm really out of shape_ , though Saihara grudgingly.  
  
The school provided special uniforms which they were to use for the class. Though Saihara had to go to the office specifically to request them, he now had his own. The dark blue shorts and white shirt matched those around him, though the girls' shorts were cut a bit differently.  
  
Shorts length didn't make a single difference when competing against the others though. Saihara almost yelped when a very fast moving ball missed his head by a fraction of an inch and landed on their side of the court. The adrenaline rush just from dodging that ball almost froze him in place. "Oi, Saihara!" Iruma yelled across the net. "If you don't start taking this game seriously I'll cut your manhood right off!"  
  
"Ah, no thank you, Iruma-san..."  
  
Iruma humphed and turned around to get back in position. Saihara let out a breath as he returned to his spot as well.  
  
After the class had done some floor exercises and stretches, the instructor told them that today was volleyball day, and they were to split into teams of four, with two nets to challenge the teams.  
  
They counted off and were sorted by number. On his side of the court Saihara stood with Hoshi, Shirogane, and Ouma. Their opponents were Chabashira, Momota, Iruma, and Toujou. Saihara was suspicious of the display Ouma made before being counted off. He had been hanging around Amami until he abruptly put himself between Chabashira and Yumeno before it got to them, effectively separating the two to different sides of the court. Ouma had only laughed when Chabashira accused him of planning something.  
  
"Don't worry, Saihara!" Momota had patted him across the shoulder. "I know you'll do great even if we're opponents!"  
  
_... So he said but..._  
  
Saihara was convinced the entire count off was a conspiracy. Despite having known his classmates for less than a week, somehow he was certain that his opposing team was made up of the most competitive members of the class. Iruma took no quarter with her fierce blows and Momota's eyes were blazing with determination. Chabashira had been competitive from the start, but somehow having Ouma on the other side made it worse.  
  
He was sure that the teasing wasn't helping.  
  
"Ah Iruma-chan, we're not trying to break bones here! Your throws might kill somebody," Ouma sang cheerfully. "Oh and Chabashira-chan, you know this isn't Aikido so be sure not to punch the ball, okay? You have to strike it!"  
  
Tenko's teeth visibly grinded in anger. Saihara knew that a little friendly competition never hurt, but it seemed as if the term "friendly" had stopped being applicable as soon as Ouma opened his mouth. _Honestly_ , Saihara thought, _What is he trying to accomplish with this?_  
  
"Are you worried, Saihara-chan?"  
  
Saihara turned to see Ouma only a few steps away from him, a smile spread confidently across his face. The look puzzled Saihara. Ouma almost looked like a cat about to play with its favorite mouse.  
  
"No, it's just a game after all," Saihara replied.  
  
"Really? I know I'd be worried if I was by the net right by an angry-looking Chabashira-chan!"  
  
Saihara sighed. "So you are doing it on purpose..."  
  
"Hmm?" Ouma questioned innocently, lifting his arms above his head. "What do you mean?"  
  
Saihara looked him directly in the eyes. "You're purposely riling her up by teasing her and insulting her. Really, Ouma-kun, what's your goal? Do you want a team of angry opponents?"  
  
Ouma simply stared at him. Saihara almost groaned in exasperation. _How many times is he gonna do this? Does he even plan on answering any of the questions I ask?_  
  
"All right, I'm going to serve," called Hoshi from the back.  
  
Saihara turned from Ouma and refocused on the game. As long as he kept all of his limbs he'd consider it a win...  
  
Hoshi spiked the ball up and served, the ball flying to the other side of the net. Toujou caught it with dexterity and precision, passing it to Iruma. Iruma hit it over to Momota, who struck it over the net. Shirogane dived for the ball and saved it last minute, and Saihara swiftly set it over the net.  
  
Saihara saw Chabashira right in front of him across the net, and knew she was going to try to spike it back. He had to be ready.  
  
He saw the ball, slowly rising in the air. It hit its peak height and-  
  
"Chabashira-chan, be sure not to hit like a girl!"  
  
_Oh no._  
  
Saihara paled as he saw Chabashira's eyes practically _explode_ with fury. She jumped.  
  
A raised hand and a sound like "thwack" were the only warnings he received before his vision blacked out completely.

—

Saihara woke up slowly. He was somewhere warm and soft. His head was pounding, why was his head pounding? He frowned a bit before slowly blinking away the sleep.  
  
He opened his eyes to find a figure leaning above him, a face close to his, and pair of eyes staring right back into his own.  
  
Ouma was staring right at him.  
  
Saihara stared back. _Were Ouma's eyes always this big?_ he thought, his brain was still in a fog of drowsiness. _In this light, they almost look-_  
  
"Good morning~! You're finally awake!"  
  
His voice did the trick. Saihara gasped, suddenly very aware of how close they were and how Ouma's hands were on either side of his head. Saihara's shoulders stiffened reflexively as he scrambled his mind for an explanation. Nothing came up.  
  
"O-Ouma-kun! W-what-"  
  
"Well, technically it's 'good afternoon,' since it's past lunch and all." Ouma looked completely unfazed by their positions, and didn't seem the slightest bit affected by their proximity.  
  
Saihara tried to calm his heart down. _There's no reason to freak out_ , he reasoned as his mind spun. _There's probably a very logical explanation for this._ He tried asking again, "Ouma-kun, what-what happened? Where is this?"  
  
"You're in the nurse's office, silly! You hit your head pretty hard in that volleyball game."  
  
"V-volleyball...?"  
  
_Oh, that's right. I was in P.E. class._ Saihara remembered splitting off into teams, Ouma aggravating Chabashira intentionally. Then... nothing.  
  
"Yep!" Ouma continued. "We had started another match, but Chabashira-chan was so angry she hit the ball right on your forehead! There's an ugly bruise there now," Ouma giggled.  
  
Saihara frowned and brought his hand up to his forehead. Sure enough, he felt pain when he found the bruise. _But the back of my head is what's hurting..._  
  
"Wait, Chabashira-san hit the ball so hard it knocked me out?" He asked incredulously. Even for someone as strong as her, that seemed incredibly unlikely.  
  
"What? Don't be dumb, Saihara-chan," Ouma pouted. "The ball made you fall, and you hit your head on the floor," he patronized. He exhaled dramatically, "Honestly, Saihara-chan, I thought you were smart."  
  
_Oh. That makes a lot more sense. My head hit the floor and that's why it's hurting in the back instead of the front...  
_  
Saihara motioned to sit up and Ouma let him, though still close to his side. Saihara noticed he had brought a chair to sit beside the cot. _A chair? Was he waiting for me to wake up this whole time?_ _  
_  
Saihara rubbed his forehead, pain still present. "How did I get in the nurse's office?"  
  
"Oh, Harukawa-chan carried you up here."  
  
"Harukawa-san did...?"  
  
"Yup! She may not seem like it, but she has a looooot of muscle!"  
  
Saihara felt a small rush of gratitude. So they really did bond at lunch. He'd have to thank her later.  
  
"By the way Ouma-kun... were you waiting for me, by any chance?"  
  
"Hmm? Why would you think that, Saihara-chan?" Ouma grinned, lips stretched as if hiding a juicy secret.  
  
Saihara reasoned, "Well, you were here when I woke up, and your chair is by the bed... it's a logical conclusion."  
  
Ouma grinned. "Yep, I did! Since I was responsible for knocking you unconscious after all!"  
  
Saihara paused. "What... do you mean?"  
  
"The game was so boring up until that point," Ouma said. "I didn't even want to play with everyone. So I thought I'd add a bit of fun by messing with the other team." Ouma started talking more animatedly, "But then you got knocked out, so I offered to watch over you! After all, it was the least I could do since I annoyed Chabashira-chan so much."  
  
Saihara rubbed his temples in defeat. "So you just used me as an excuse to get out of P.E..." he muttered.  
  
"What? How cruel, Saihara-chan! Is your opinion of me that low?" Ouma's face changed until it bore a pretty convincing look of a child about to burst into tears.  
  
Saihara wasn't about to be fooled. He spoke as met Ouma's eyes square on, "Well, how else would you have me take it?" He had openly stated he had annoyed Chabashira and the others on purpose. What else was he capable of?  
  
Ouma's sorrow vanished in a blink, leaving a pondering look on his face, "Hmm... I don't know," he said. Suddenly his mouth curled at the edges and his eyes narrowed in mirth. He leaned closer, face inches from Saihara's before softly admitting, "Maybe I just wanted to see more of Saihara-chan's beautiful sleeping face."  
  
Saihara froze. He stared at Ouma with incredulous eyes. _He can't be serious, can he?_  
  
Ouma suddenly leaned away. "Juuuuust kidding!"  
  
Saihara broke eye contact and looked away, resignation filling his bones. Saihara realized that as long as he hung around Ouma he'd have to put up with his antics. _I can't take anything this guy says seriously. And he seems rather happy watching me squirm..._  
  
Saihara turned his legs to get off of the bed. He noticed that he was still in his P.E. uniform. After changing into the school uniform placed by the cot on the side table, Saihara thanked the nurse and walked out of the office with Ouma. He noticed the hallways were quiet. Usually he'd expect more people to be about. Wasn't P.E. still in session?  
  
As Saihara went to his desk and gathered his books to take home, he noted that even his classmates' belongings were gone. _There really is no one here. Is it still fourth period?_  
  
"Hey, Ouma-kun, I hit my head during fourth period, right?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"Yep, that's when P.E. is!" he responded. "Thank goodness you didn't have a nosebleed, or we would've had to take you to the hospital to check for a concussion," Ouma stated cheerily.  
  
Saihara paused. There was something about his words that stuck out to him. Was he forgetting something?  
  
_Hospital...  
  
Hospital... hospital...  
  
....... **Hospital!** _  
  
Panic seized Saihara's heart as he gasped in realization. What if the reason no one was around was-  
  
He frantically turned to Ouma. "Ouma-kun! What time is it?!"  
  
Ouma looked at him curiously. "The time? Why?"  
  
"Please, it's important!"  
  
"Hmm okay then." Ouma pulled out his phone. "It's 3:25."  
  
Saihara felt dread pool his stomach faster than a dam breaking. It wasn't just past fourth period, the whole school day had ended.  
  
_I need to go now!_  
  
"Eh? Saihara-chan, where are you going?" Ouma called out when suddenly faced with Saihara frantically stuffing the rest of his books in his bag and speed-walking out of the classroom. Ouma had to jog lightly to keep up.  
  
Saihara continued to hurry out of the building as quickly as he could, stress quickly taking over. Soon they reached the front gates of the school and Saihara looked back to Ouma, still walking forwards.  
  
His words came out jumbled and frenzied. "Thank you so much for looking after me, Ouma-kun, I really have to go I hope you understand, I'm not mad at all but I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow!"  
  
With that, Saihara fled the scene all but running, scurrying off down the street and around corners until Ouma could see him no more.

—

Ouma stared in mild shock at the street had just seen his classmate run down. He had expected Saihara to realize school was over, but the rush? Now _that_ was unexpected. Seeing Saihara, timid and shy but resolute in his ideas, suddenly rushing out of the school as if his life depended on it had thrown Ouma for a loop. It was such a contrast from what he had observed of him before that he could only stand by the gates, surprised.  
  
Then he let out a chuckle as he brought his hands to his mouth. Ouma hummed as he walked away from the school, a newfound joy overtaking his senses.  
  
In truth, Ouma didn't feel the least bit remorseful for angering Chabashira or any of the rest. He only thought they would be a little less dull if they took the game seriously. After all, what's the point of a game if there's not some intent to win? The rest didn't even notice.  
  
_But Saihara-chan!_ Ouma thought with growing enthusiasm. _He saw right through me!_  
  
No one had ever done that really. Not only had he noticed the game Ouma was playing, but he also called him out on it– _how thrilling!_  
  
So when Saihara had been knocked out, he'd immediately offered to watch over him. He didn't want to participate in P.E. anymore, and maybe Saihara would surprise him more when he woke up. Some of his classmates even seemed grateful to get rid of him for a while.  
  
That was the plan, but really Ouma had no idea Saihara would actually sleep through the rest of school. It's not like Ouma cared enough to attend class instead, so he sat there watching the rise and fall of Saihara's chest. Definitely not his face. His _gorgeous, elegant_ face...  
  
Okay, so maybe he had stared a little bit. How could he not? It's not like anything else in the room was as interesting. Ouma admired how smooth his skin was, how soft his hair looked, the newfound discovery of how long his lashes were. Others might have referred to them as feminine qualities, but to Ouma they just made him more attractive.  
_  
He really is handsome..._  
  
He had been leaning over him to get a better look when Saihara started stirring. How privileged Ouma had felt to see his eyes slowly blink open.  
  
Saihara's soft-looking hair framed his face and lay across the pillow in a lovely manner. His long lashes decorated his gray eyes as he slowly opened up his eyes, still half-lidded from sleep. Ouma swore he absolutely did _not_ feel something in his chest flip.  
  
Of course, even when Saihara became flustered once he realized the situation, he still looked quite breathtaking. Add the sudden puzzle of Saihara's rush to leave, and Ouma had much to think about.  
  
"Really, Saihara-chan," he spoke aloud to the empty street, glee filling his voice, "You really are a mystery!"  
  
He was getting quite attached, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Lord this chapter.... I suffered. OTL
> 
> I was just casually writing Gokuhara and then translations were like 'sike... he speaks in the third person.' Gonta u slay me. My grammar instincts were going like crazy. And then apparently everyone refers to him by his first name?? OTL Just... just take this.....
> 
> Notes on the Chapter!  
> \- Saihara's eyes playing tricks on him: Based on personal experience. I attended my grandfather's funeral and kept thinking I'd see his chest moving up and down, even though I know it didn't. Tried to incorporate that into the story.  
> \- Reading corner: Also based on personal experience from when I was young. Apparently when I was done playing with other kids I would go and sit by myself and read for an hour XD  
> \- Gonta's wolf family: I heard in canon he was raised by wolves? Wasn't quite sure how to incorporate that into this non-despair universe so went down the "grew up with wolves and family" path. ...Why do you continue to make my life difficult Gonta.  
> \- 300 pounds: Okay straight up I'm American and I genuinely hit a stump when trying to use SI units? What do you people call weights in other countries? ... Kilos? Anyway I suffered and I kept trying to use the heathen measurements I'm used to. I'm sorry, it's just gonna have to be that way. If I do use measurements from now on I'll put the equivalents in the chapter notes at the end. As an estimate for those who aren't used to pounds, 300 lbs is roughly 136 kg.  
> \- Gonta's strength: Yes, in canon apparently he lifts a manhole with his FINGERS. Those are like 250 lbs (113 kg)... how.  
> \- Swimming: Based on personal experience! I do swimming and it helps because my body hates running :').  
> \- Saihara's lunch: He makes bento! I'm unfamiliar with how to make bento boxes so I used this as a reference: http://www.justonecookbook.com/how-to-make-bento/  
> \- Kaede and Maki's relationship: Okay, true confessions, I was gunning REALLY HARD for that ship to be a thing. And then canon just... smashed it. Not sure yet if I want them to be friends or girlfriends yet... just let me have them as close friends at least give me that much. _(:'3」∠)_  
> \- Home Economics Class: I think this is a thing in Japan? They have classes about how to cook, sew, do adult things, etc. I really liked the idea and decided to use it! :D
> 
> Fanart that inspired the chapter: Haha... official art inspired this chapter. If you know which one good for you~. So instead have this au art! :D I love it sooo much. If anyone writes a fic about it hmu immediately. https://tryingtowhisper.tumblr.com/post/156296579488/ill-take-your-heart-like-you-did-mine-in
> 
> Please leave comments even if they are like 2 characters I absolutely loved all of yours from last chapter! :D Stay safe and know you're loved! Hope to see you soon! (●˙꒳˙●)/


	3. Love Blooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all
> 
> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> Feel free to check me out at my tumblr @choco-armint if you want
> 
> I absolutely live for Amami and Ouma being bros. Also did you see Ouma/Saihara is now a common tag?? (*°▽°*) /My longest Yeah Boy Ever

"Amami-chan, I have a problem."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
It was currently the weekend–school had ended and it was a day to relax. Except Ouma wasn't relaxing. Not really. He had much more pressing matters on his mind.  
  
"I said, Amami-chan, I have a problem."  
  
"I heard you the first time. So what's this problem of yours? You hardly ask me for help with anything."  
  
The two were currently sitting in beanbags on the floor, playing videogames together. Ouma knew Amami was going to pick rainbow road like an asshole, but he was certain he and Princess Peach could handle it. Neither would stand to suffer defeat today. Amami was just going to have to take his Shy Guy and deal with it.  
  
Ouma pressed on, "So you know Saihara-chan?"  
  
"Saihara-kun? I'm guessing you mean the kid who transferred in our class a week ago," Amami hummed as he, predictably, selected rainbow road and started the race. _Jerk_ , Ouma thought as Amami continued. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Ouma scowled as he revved up the kart's engine. "It has to do with him," he answered vaguely.  
  
Amami, though still focused on the race that had started, shot his eyebrows up in surprise. "Has Saihara-kun been giving you trouble? He didn't seem like the type to pick on somebody, but-"  
  
"No, no, no, Amami-chan," Ouma corrected, leaning whichaway and that along with the turning of his kart. It was a juvenile habit, but a hard one to break. "Not that kind of problem. And you know how capable I am in dealing with morons who want to fight me." Princess Peach tossed a green tortoise shell in Shy Guy's general direction. It missed.  
  
Amami laughed lightly, "Of course I do. I just need to make sure no one is hurting you."  
  
"Oh, my dear Amami-chan!" Ouma gasped, launching into dramatics. "Willing to fight someone for the sake of my honor! What chivalry!"  
  
"It's not like that and you know it," Amami cut him off nonchalantly.  
  
Of course Ouma knew it. They both did. Ouma and Amami had been childhood friends since grade school. The years of spending time together, working through school assignments as partners, and hanging out on weekends had forged a bond between them. It was strong and comforting, a rock that both of them could rely on in times of need. They were practically family at that point. Still, Ouma always loved a good joke.  
  
"So?" Amami prompted, unperturbed by his lowered ranking as Princess Peach whizzed by him. "What's the problem with Saihara-kun?"  
  
Ouma hummed as he debated. Amami may be family, and Amami's the first person Ouma would trust to talk about this. That said, he wasn't sure about this 'problem' himself. _Is it a problem?_ he thought. He knew he could tell Amami anything but...  
  
"C'mon, you can tell me," Amami gently reminded him. "I won't judge."  
  
Ouma smiled in relief. If there was one thing he could pinpoint about Amami that he always appreciated, it was his ability to listen. It was probably why they had grown so close in the first place.  
  
Ouma ventured, "Well, it's not Saihara-chan that's the problem." He smashed the buttons harder as the final lap began. He knew Amami's tactics. He would relax for the first two rounds, but as soon as it was crunch time, Amami would soar ahead. How was still a mystery. _Doesn't matter_ , Ouma thought, _Whatever strategy he's cooked this time, it won't beat my progress!_  
  
He tentatively continued, "It's more like I have a problem this time."  
  
"Wow, you're admitting you have a problem?" Amami laughed. "It must be serious."  
  
"Don't joke around Amami-chan, or I won't tell you."  
  
"Right, right, continue," Amami conceded. Ouma felt tiny dregs of horror as Amami secured a blue tortoise shell. _I didn't know he would get one so soon!_ Ouma frantically tried to lessen his speed, but it was in vain.  
  
Shy Guy soon whizzed by a burnt-up Princess Peach and cheered on in victory as he passed the finish line.  
  
Ouma scowled. He had been so close that time too. _Damn blue shells._  
  
"Victory~," Amami sung. Ouma hated how proudly he wore that smug look of his. His friend had absolutely no qualms about rubbing in his win at all.  
  
"You only won because it was rainbow road. You're practically a god on that thing."  
  
"Yep, yep, didn't have anything to do with the fact that you rushed ahead and underestimated how slow NPCs were." Amami bore a shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying this far too much for Ouma's liking.  
  
Ouma's lip twitched downward. "If only Daisy were faster I could've used her to take the hit for me!" he muttered to himself. He tossed the remote aside and crossed his arms in frustration. _It's a tried and true method, how could it have failed me now?!_  
  
Anami chuckled in mirth. "Well, wasn't my fault somebody was distracted." His eyes turned serious as his smile faded. "So? You want to tell me what this problem is?"  
  
Ouma sunk lower in the bean bag, avoiding eye contact. He had been meaning to tell Amami. It wasn't like he wanted to keep it from him. That said, it was much harder to say out loud. He tried anyway.  
  
"I think I have an... interest. In Saihara-chan."  
  
"You mean a crush?"  
  
Ouma laughed, denying to himself that the statement gave him more nerves than he wanted it to. "Don't be silly! You know I don't get crushes that easily."  
  
Amami stared, unblinking. "Ouma, yes you do. You have infatuations with other people all the time."  
  
"Wh-I do not!"  
  
Amami shrugged confidently. "Yeah, right. Don't tell me you didn't have that brief interest in Kiibo when he transferred in middle school."  
  
Ouma turned his head and pouted further. "I did not! And I don't have those kind of feelings for Kiibo. He's just fun to tease!"  
  
Amami sighed, "Sure, sure."  
  
Ouma groaned in frustration. _Whatever._ "I'm telling you, this is different!"  
  
"Well then," Amami leaned closer. "Tell me about it."  
  
Ouma looked away from Amami to think about it. Then he giggled. "He's just so intriguing!"

—

"Intriguing?"  
  
"Yeah! Did you know the other day he could tell I was annoying Chabashira-chan on purpose?" Ouma's eyes began to gleam. "He even called me out on it!"  
  
Amami considered this. Many of their classmates had noted Ouma's behaviour and thought it annoying.   _But Saihara... called him out on it?_ Amami pondered. That was different. Most of them just wrote Ouma off as a 'troublesome guy' and stayed away from him.  
  
Ouma leaned toward Amami as he began to rant, "He wasn't even phased when I was about to use the waterworks! That works on everyone!"  
  
_No, it's more like they concede because you're such a loud crier and it's a pain_ , Amami thought, but kept his mouth shut. "You found that out when you went to watch over him?"  
  
"Yuup!" Ouma grinned, all teeth. "By the way Amami-chan, have you noticed how handsome Saihara-chan is?"  
  
"And I guess you have?" Amami hummed.  
  
Ouma nodded, his eyes sparkling. "His hair looks so smooth and he has such long eyelashes! I don't think I've seen anyone with such pretty eyelashes!"  
  
Amami chuckled. "Really? Pretty sure I'm the guy with the longest eyelashes in the class."  
  
Ouma shook his head. "You're not cute like he is, Amami-chan."  
  
"You wound me, Ouma-kun."  
  
"It's just the truth!" Ouma grinned cheekily.  
  
They shared a laugh. Teases were commonplace between them and their friendship wouldn't be the same without them. After their laughter Amami's grin turned sly. "So? What are you going to do about it? Gonna try to romance your crush?"  
  
"Not a crush!" he reminded.  
  
"Right, and I'm het."  
  
"Get to the point Amami-chan."  
  
"Right, right," he conceded. Amami reveled in this new information. _My best friend has a crush? Even if he won't admit it, this gives me so many ideas._ His mind was overflowing with possibilities. _This will be so much fun._ Amami elaborated, "So, what are you going to do about Saihara-kun? Try to get closer to him?"  
  
"You bet I am!" Ouma smiled brilliantly. "I'm going to find out all of his secrets! It'll be a fun game to play!"  
  
"His secrets, huh? And how are you gonna do that?" Amami's smile turned devilish. "Bring him flowers? Make him chocolates? Some love letters might be a good idea."  
  
"A-ma-mi-chan," Ouma's smile was tight despite his sing-song voice. "I wouldn't joke around if I were you right now."  
  
"Or what? You'll beat me in Mario Kart?"  
  
"Oh yeah!" Ouma exclaimed, face washed completely of the menacing smile he wore before. He grabbed the controlled and faced the screen with determination. "I still have to take revenge for that last round!"  
  
Amami chuckled, picking up his controller. "In your dreams, Panta boy."  
  
"Seaweed-head."  
  
The two continued to play until the sun set and sky dimmed. Normally playing would be relaxing, but Amami couldn't help but think about the conversation they'd had earlier. The more Amami thought about Ouma's new interest, the more something worried him.  
  
He'd known Ouma since grade school. He'd seen people fall quickly in and out of Ouma's favor and visa-versa. Ouma was never interested in someone for long. People were never tolerant enough of his prying attitude to stay that long either. _It's been a while since Ouma had a friend other than myself_ , Amami realized. The worry wouldn't go away. _I have to talk to him about this. Even if this interest goes nowhere I... have to do something to preserve their relationship, at least,_ he thought to himself.  
  
He couldn't let it be any longer. Amami paused the game.  
  
"Ouma-kun, a word?"  
  
"Hmm?" Ouma turned to him with curious eyes. "Why so serious Amami-chan?"  
  
Amami chose his words carefully. He had to get this message across. He feared the consequences otherwise. He really didn't want this to fall through for his friend. "Ouma-kun, I'm... worried about you."  
  
"Worried?"  
  
Amami nodded. "It's... about your interest regarding Saihara-kun."  
  
Ouma's expression darkened, joy lost, with sadness and dejection taking its place.  
  
Amami pressed on, "Whenever you have an interest in something, you dive headfirst into it. You don't pay attention to what's happening around you because of it."  
  
Ouma stared without comment, so Amami continued. "You tend to push people more than they're comfortable with. I know you love jokes and games but a lot of people don't, especially when it comes to their personal lives. You've pushed a lot of people away like that."  
  
Amami thought of the brief encounter he'd had with Saihara in the school gym. "From what I've seen of Saihara-kun, he seems like the kind of person to value boundaries. I don't think he'd ever push someone to do something they don't want to do. He's very polite you know," he let out a humorless chuckle in the silence. "Ouma-kun... Saihara-kun may not be ready to give you all the answers to his 'secrets.' He may not even be willing to divulge them at all."  
  
Ouma said nothing, but his stillness told Amami he was thinking over his words carefully.  
  
"I know you want to jump right in and push Saihara-kun until he gives but... that won't be good for either of you." Amami looked into Ouma's eyes. "You understand that, don't you? I don't want you to make another enemy out of someone who could be your friend."  
  
Ouma looked down. He wasn't smiling. Seeing him like this hurt, so he tried to remedy the pain.  
  
"Look, I... I know you at least want to be friends with Saihara-kun. And he may want that too. But please... go slow? I'm not saying to not try at all but just... be respectful, you know? Let him divulge when he wants to and try to respect his space. I think you'll grow much closer that way."  
  
Ouma's eyes lifted back up to his, curious and hopeful.  
  
Amami smiled reassuringly. "Besides, wouldn't it be much more rewarding to have Saihara open up on his own?"  
  
Ouma's eyes brightened as he smiled back. "You're right, Amami-chan! It'd be much more interesting to have Saihara-chan come to me!"  
  
Amami finally grinned fully, thankful that he had gotten his point across. Hopefully that way he'd help things along for both of them.  
  
"All right, you've convinced me. I'll go slow with Saihara-chan, just for you." Ouma winked. "Now c'mon," he said while turning back to the screen. "I think we can get a few more rounds in before we pass out!"  
  
"This game again?" Amami sighed. He was still too happy to care much though. "Alright, but just a few more rounds."  
  
Ouma grinned as the race began to start. A few minutes passed before he spoke up again.  
  
"...It's not a crush, you know."  
  
"Don't worry, I won't tell~"  
  
"Amami-chan!"

—

Saihara's return to school the following week had flooded him with concerned classmates. Saihara was extremely touched that all of his friends (friends? Could he call them that now?) had gone up to him to make sure he was okay after hitting his head in gym class. Chabashira had apologized over and over, face red and looking like she was about to cry. He assured her no damage was done and he didn't even feel the bruise anymore. She finally conceded when he agreed to let her do him a favor in the near future. Once he swore his word on it, she had smiled and let the matter go.  
  
Classes passed by and it was currently his first Home Economics class. Last week he had had to go over some enrollment papers with the headmaster's assistant, so he had been excused from it. He wasn't that worried, though.  
  
This week they were learning how to make sugar frosted cookies. The skills to be learned involved using a cake mixer as well as making their own frosting. _Seems simple enough_ , Saihara thought. He was glad it was an easier recipe this time around, that way he could focus more on helping his partner.  
  
"So, where do we start?" Harukawa asked as she looked at the baking tray. They both stood at their station for two, instructions and supplies placed neatly on the surface in front of them. In anyone else's eyes it would seem like Harukawa was unaffected by the task at hand, but Saihara could sense she was a little daunted by the materials.  
  
Saihara offered her a reassuring smile. "I think we need to start on the cookies first. That way when they're in the oven we can work on the frosting."  
  
Harukawa nodded, determinedly picking up the instructions and reading with a close eye.    
  
Since they were sugar cookies, the teacher had already made the dough and chilled it for two hours prior in the room's refrigerator. They each had a bowl of the appropriate amount of dough on the counter, and it was their assignment to make cookies out of it.  
  
Saihara started. "The oven usually takes a while to heat up, so I usually do that as a first step. What temperature does the recipe call for?"  
  
Harukawa glanced at the sheet. "...375°F."  
  
Saihara nodded, letting her input the baking temperature. "Next, you want to prepare the baking sheet. That way when your dough is ready you already have a place to put the cookies you make."  
  
As Saihara demonstrated how to grease the baking pan, Harukawa looked at him intently, hanging onto every word he said. Saihara would've flushed by the intensity of her gaze had he not known better. He looked away anyway. "Let's start on the dough, yeah?" he said nervously.  
  
Harukawa continued to pay close attention when Saihara showed her how to use the rolling pin to flatten the dough. There was flour everywhere due to how forceful her motions were, but Saihara didn't mind. She was doing it correctly, albeit roughly, and she was still learning. When the dough was flat enough, Saihara let Harukawa choose her cookie-cutter first. She chose a star-shaped design, while Saihara had stuck with a basic circle. He enjoyed smooth edges.  
  
They carefully lifted the cookie cutouts onto the baking tray, Harukawa struggling when a few fell apart on her. Saihara reassured her by showing her that the dough could be pressed back together if separated. She seemed to relax at that. When they put their trays in the oven and set the timer, Saihara gave a small smile. "Shall we start on the frosting now?"

—

"Ouma-kun, you're getting distracted."  
  
"I'm simply observing, Amami-chan."  
  
"You need to be _observing_ your own work."  
  
Ouma pouted as he focused back on their station. He and Amami were partners because, predictably, most people in the class didn't want him joking around when their grade was on the line. Amami was the only one close enough to Ouma to knock some sense into him and get the project done.  
  
Except for today, apparently, since Ouma seemed far more content to be staring at another station instead of doing his own work. Amami didn't have to guess which one it was. "So?" He prompted, "What were you looking at?"  
  
Ouma let out a breathy giggle. "It seems like our dear Saihara-chan is teaching Harukawa-chan how to cook."  
  
"Maybe while he's at it he can teach you how to cook too."  
  
"Wh-hey!"  
  
Amami smirked when Ouma picked up his bowl and started to mix his frosting. Ouma never let an insult go by for too long. At least now, maybe he would focus...  
  
"Hey, do you think Saihara-chan knows how to make other foods?"  
  
...Or so he thought.  
  
"How would I know? Probably." Amami shrugged. He turned the cake beater on low as he stirred and fluffed the frosting mix. Ouma started to work on his frosting too, but Amami could tell with a glance his mind was elsewhere. His eyes had a faraway look in them, but his smile betrayed his excitement for something.  
  
Amami and Ouma continued to work on their frosting until the oven beeped and the cookies were ready. When they set them out on a cooling rack, the duo began to dye their individual frosting. Amami dyed his a bright green with yellow, while Ouma preoccupied himself with making the best shade of purple out of the assorted reds and blues. Amami swore Ouma would probably die in a world without purple.  
  
Ouma had done a rushed job on his decorations (not caring for presentation too much as he found it "unexciting" and "tedious"), and, while Amami was distracted working on his, cheerfully announced, "I'm going to go try Saihara-chan's cookies!"  
  
Amami took two seconds, two seconds too long, to process the statement. "Ouma-kun!" he called back, only to see his friend cheerfully prancing over all the way across the room.  
  
Amami sighed. _Well, whatever. I guess he wants to hang out with him whenever possible._ _  
  
... This gives me an idea.  
_

—

Saihara stifled a laugh, "Really?"  
  
"Yes," Harukawa huffed. "When we were told to pickle our own cucumbers, I thought I could handle it since it's _pickles_ , they can't get any _more_ bitter." She pouted slightly as she spread more frosting on the stars. Saihara enjoyed hearing about her experiences, even if they were about pickles that had enough salt content to rival salt water. "Unfortunately, I was mistaken."  
  
He and Harukawa had finished waiting for the cookies to cool and were beginning to decorate. Harukawa tried to use a knife to spread the yellow frosting–with sloppy results–when Saihara had told her about using a bag. He and she were now quietly conversing while they squeezed frosting carefully out of a ziplock with a punctured hole. "I swear you're a genius with this stuff," she had told him.  
  
Saihara quietly hummed as he finished decorating his last cookie. He had covered the tops of the cookies with pink frosting, circling the edges with red loops and finishing it off with a dollop of deep red frosting. Saihara leaned back to inspect his work, laughing slightly as he did so. "They kind of look like they're themed for Valentine's Day."  
  
"Are you gonna confess to someone with them?"  
  
Saihara gasped softly as he turned his head to see the source of the voice. Ouma was walking (skipping?) right toward them. "O-Ouma-kun, I didn't see you," Saihara told him as he approached.  
  
"Bet'cha didn't!" Ouma grinned. "I pride myself on being a ninja."  
  
"...Do you?"  
  
"No." Ouma smiled wider.  
  
Saihara let it go. "By the way, what are you doing over here Ouma-kun? Isn't your station over there?"  
  
"Well, I'm done with mine so I don't need to be by it anymore," Ouma said absentmindedly, eyes roaming over the cookies. He then looked up into Saihara's eyes excitedly. "Hey, do you know there's a tradition to eat the newbie's home ec. food every time someone transfers?"  
  
Saihara doubted that, already smelling a lie. "What would be the point of that?"  
  
"To rank you among the class to see who's the best cook of course!"  
  
"I feel like you're lying to me, Ouma-kun..."  
  
"I've never heard of such a ritual," Harukawa added, eyes still intent on her decorating.  
  
"Thank goodness! You'd be ranked on the bottom for sure," Ouma taunted.  
  
Harukawa didn't rise to the bait, but the twitch in her eyebrow gave away her displeasure. She ignored him, however, and the subject was dropped.  
  
Ouma turned back to Saihara and tilted his head. "So, can I?"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Try your cookies, silly!" Ouma laughed.  
  
"Oh, is that what you wanted?" Saihara glanced at his batch. Truthfully, they only needed to have five cookies to present to the teacher and he'd made more. It wasn't like he had much use for the rest anyway. "Well... I guess I don't seem the harm in it."  
  
"Yaaaay! You're the best, Saihara-chan!"  
  
Ouma quickly took one of Saihara's pink-and-red cookies and took a bite. To be honest, Saihara hadn't expected him to ask politely to eat some of his cookies. He thought Ouma was the type of person to not wait for answers and do what he wanted. _Have I misjudged him?_ Saihara thought briefly.  
  
His thoughts were quickly sidetracked as Ouma sunk his teeth into the cookie, eyes suddenly turning wide and bright. Saihara had a brief flash of horror. _Oh no, what if they didn't turn out?!_  
  
"These are _amazing_ , Saihara-chan!" Ouma exclaimed, mouth still full of cookie crumbs. Once he had swallowed Ouma continued to give out praise. "These are the best cookies I've ever tasted! Did you add magic to them?"  
  
Ouma's eyes were practically sparkling and Saihara couldn't help but feel his cheeks flush. "N-no, I just... followed the recipe..."  
  
Ouma's smile broadened and almost seemed to dazzle everything around him. Saihara caught himself staring and looked away with a blush.  
  
"Hey, do you want some of my cookies?" Ouma asked enthusiastically.  
  
Saihara shook his head, "Oh, you don't have to return the favor, Ouma-kun, I don't mind-"  
  
"But I want to!" Ouma exclaimed. "Wait right here I'll be back!"  
  
Saihara watched as Ouma dashed back to his counter. His impression of Ouma had drastically changed just in this brief interaction. When he first met Ouma he thought he would only make Saihara's life more difficult, with how he stole Kiibo's wrench and his hat just for a game. Yet here he was, exchanging cookies with him. _I guess he really doesn't mean any harm after all_ , Saihara conceded. It felt relieving to believe it.  
  
He refocused from his musings when he saw Ouma prancing over once again. Ouma held out his creation in a paper towel in front of Saihara, bright smile still present on his face. "Here you are!"  
  
Saihara blinked. There were not one, but three cookies in front of him. They were small squares, each almost smothered in bright purple frosting. The execution was haphazard at best, with stray lines of frosting leaking over the edges, but to Saihara it only made them more endearing. Sloppy cookies weren't bad cookies, after all.  
  
"Are you sure, Ouma-kun? You did only eat one cookie, not three..."  
  
"I insist, Saihara-chan!" He stated confidently while pushing his arms out more. "Your cookies are worth at least three of mine."  
  
Saihara smiled at him, taking them into his hands. "Thank you, Ouma-kun. I'll be sure to eat them."  
  
Ouma nodded and walked off in a rush.  
  
Saihara picked up one of the cookies and took a bite. The frosting was a bit milky, and the cookie was burnt, but they tasted lovely all the same. Saihara tried not to feel too happy that he was already giving and receiving gifts from his friends (the word felt right and warm in his heart).  
  
Later, when Saihara was making dinner, he ate another one of the cookies before leaving the last and some of his own for his father. He couldn't deny how happy the gesture made him, smiling even when no one was around.

—

"Hey, Ouma-kun, go grab my gym bag for me."  
  
It was early before school the following day, and Amami was currently standing in front of Ouma's desk. Ouma looked a bit startled to be asked something so suddenly. Then he smiled with tight lips. "Hmm? Could you repeat that Amami-chan?"  
  
"I said," Amami continued, "Go get my gym bag for me please."  
  
Ouma started laughing, incredulous eyes crinkling at the edges, "Amami-chan, didn't you just come back from a swim? Why didn't you think to pick it up then?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, I was distracted I guess. Anyway I think you should go get it for me."  
  
Ouma stared at Amami. Amami continued to smile amicably, as if he wasn't asking for a huge favor without so much as a 'good morning.' Amami could see the confusion on his face but stood by his request, hands folded across his chest and eyes unwavering.  
  
Ouma sighed aggravatedly. "So? What are you gonna give me in exchange?"  
  
"Oh, I think we can discuss payment later," Amami chuckled. "In any case, I really would hurry. Class will start soon."  
  
Ouma continued to stare at Amami, unflinching. Then recognition flew across his eyes, and he got down from sitting on top of his chest and started walking. "Is it that important, Amami-chan?"  
  
"Yep! Thanks, you're a life-saver. It's locker 137!" Amami called back to him. Ouma simply huffed and closed the classroom door behind him. With Ouma gone, Amami could finally snicker to himself in peace.  
_  
Amami Rantarou, you're a damn genius._

—

 _This is stupid._ Ouma thought to himself as he walked down the hall. _This is so stupid!_  
  
He continued to walk briskly to the school gym, his pace indicating his frustration. _Honestly! Why can't stupid Amami-chan remember to get his bag when he's at the gym?! And why involve me in it?! I was thinking about something important too!_  
  
Before Amami had walked up to him and so rudely interrupted his train of thought, Ouma had been thinking about the day before during home ec. when Saihara had smiled at him. He had hurriedly walked away with the intent not to let Saihara see his face (which was absolutely _not_ bright red. Blushing with just a _smile_? What was this, _middle school?_ ). And he was absolutely _not_ thinking about how Saihara had had a bit of flour on his cheek and was cursing his lack of resolve for not pointing it out. ( _Should I have said something? Wiped it off for him? No, too forward, that would've been terrible, way to go Kokichi._ )  
  
As Ouma neared the entrance he pulled out his phone. If Amami was gonna be a jerk about it then so would he.  
  
_Ouma: Amami-chan if this is a waste of my time I will hang you up by your ears.  
  
Amami: lol can u even reach my ears _  
  
Ouma sent him a flipped off emoji and put his phone away with a huff. He quickly drew it out again when he felt it vibrate.  
  
_Amami: I promise it's worth it  
Amami: and if you don't believe me even after you get it I promise to buy you panta _  
  
That perked Ouma's interest.  
  
_Ouma: it better be a pack of panta, Amami-chan  
  
Amami: yeah sure  
Amami: but go to the locker room and you'll see  
Amami: i think after this you'll even be asking to pay me~  
  
_ _Yeah right_ , Ouma thought. He swiftly pocketed his phone as he opened the gym locker room door. He was greeted with the smell of chlorine and the sight of black lockers throughout. It wasn't like he never went in here. He had to, for gym class, but mostly he just stayed away. He had much better places to be than staying here.  
  
Ouma paced around the locker room, searching amongst the many, many, locker numbers. _Why on earth does this school need 300 lockers?!_ He screamed in his thoughts. He made his way from the 300s down. He was barely past the 200s when he stopped. Somewhere in the locker room someone was...  
_  
_ _Singing?_  
  
Ouma walked quietly around the lockers, trying his best to stay silent. The voice was familiar somehow... did he know it?  
  
When he heard it getting louder he hid behind the row of lockers and peeked around the corner. His eyes widened as his legs froze.  _Oh my god!_  
  
There was Saihara, dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist, humming. _Singing!_ Ouma felt transfixed on the spot as he watched Saihara walk down the aisle, fresh from the showers.  
  
His hair was wet and slick, sticking to his forehead, his stomach not rigid with muscle but still smooth and fit.  
  
_Has he been working out?_ Ouma's thoughts registered late.  
  
It took Ouma a second to register that Saihara was still singing and humming softly as he walked unknowingly toward Ouma. Ouma watched and listened, rapt with attention. All other thoughts were blank.  
  
Saihara sung softly, _"... I continue to chase the stillness. / I still can't find the words."_  
  
The song was peppy, but elegant from what Ouma could tell. Not a slow song by any means, but one with passion and intent. A song with feeling.  
  
_He really is a good singer,_ Ouma thought.  
  
Saihara hummed some verses, a relaxed expression on his face. Ouma felt in awe of it. He had never seen such a look from Saihara before. All the stress and anxiety Saihara hid under forced smiles and wide eyes bore no trace on his face at all. His posture was languid and calm as he walked. He didn't look nervous at all. He looked- _happy_.  
  
_"I wonder, is this the end?"_  
  
Saihara hummed again, looking around for his locker, coming closer to Ouma's location.  
  
_"Somehow, I want to do something."  
_  
Ouma continued to watch as Saihara moved to his locker-145-and slid open the latch.  
  
Ouma quickly gained his senses and turned away, back against the row of lockers. Saihara couldn't see him here, and he knew he'd just be intruding if he continued to look. _I... I can't just look at him while he's.... he's..._  
  
Ouma felt the burn on his cheeks before the realization dawned on him. _God! I'm such a creeper!_ He bemoaned. _I didn't mean to...! What am I even...?_ Ouma paled in realization. _Amami-chan's bag_. He had to get it. And it was oh-so-conveniently in a locker close to Saihara's. Ouma felt dread sink in his veins.  
  
_Oh god. Can I do this? Why am I freaking out? This so isn't like me!_  
  
Ouma took in a deep breath. He could do this. This was no big deal. It was time to act casually.  
  
"Hellooooo? Anyone there?" Ouma announced as he made himself look like he'd been walking around the corner. _No going back now._  
  
He locked eyes with Saihara (who was blessedly still decent in a towel) and grinned widely. "Saihara-chan! What a surprise!"  
  
Saihara simply stared at Ouma for a moment. Then he _squeaked_ , a blush darkening on his face as he stepped backwards, back colliding with the lockers. Ouma allowed himself a snicker at the sight (after all it was very endearing) and slowly stepped toward him. "Hey, you don't need to be scared, Saihara-chan, I won't do anything to you."  
  
"I wasn't worried about that..." Saihara regained enough of his senses to say.  
  
"Aww, Saihara-chan trusts me? I'm so touched!" Ouma exclaimed in an awestruck tone.  
  
"No, I mean..." Saihara glanced to the side and sighed, apparently figuring that his point wouldn't get across. "What are you doing here Ouma-kun?"  
  
"Eeeh? Am I not allowed to enter the school gym anymore?" Ouma glanced to the side, pretending to be hurt.  
  
"N-no, I just...," Saihara raked his hands through his hair.  
  
Ouma took pity on him. "Oh, don't worry, I was just here to pick up Amami-chan's bag!"  
  
"Amami-kun's?"  
  
"Yep! He's so forgetful sometimes, the klutz," Ouma teased. "He didn't pick it up with him after working out this morning! Really, how thick can you get?" Even if Amami wasn't in the room to hear it, Ouma was most definitely going to take a jab at him. It was the least Amami deserved after putting him in _this_ uncomfortable situation.  
  
Saihara looked like he had more to say, but after a brief silence seemed to reconsider, moving onto other topics. "Do you know which locker is his?"  
  
"Sure do!" Ouma beamed. "It's 137... I think it's around here, right Saihara-chan?"  
  
Ouma watched as Saihara glanced around and indeed saw locker 137 a few lockers down from his own. Saihara let out a sigh.  
  
Ouma, keeping the carefree act up, lightly walked over to Amami's locker and lifted the hatch. Ouma scowled subtly when he saw the bag sitting untouched on the top shelf of the locker. _He didn't even lock it. He had this planned from the beginning, that jerk..._  
  
"Um, Ouma-kun..." Ouma turned to see Saihara mumbling to him. Saihara had a slight flush on his cheeks as he continued to stare into his own locker. "D-did you... hear anything? B-before coming here?"  
  
Ouma stared at Saihara. _Oh, he means his singing._ Saihara's blush continued to deepen as he waited in silence. To Ouma, Saihara's singing wasn't anything to be embarrassed by. It was beautiful and melodious. If anything, Ouma wanted to praise Saihara for it. Judging by the look on Saihara's face, however, that was probably too much.  
  
Ouma pondered for a minute on how best to approach the question. Then he asked quietly, "Is it bad if I heard something?"  
  
Saihara visibly winced and stammered, "Um, I mean it's not bad, I-I just-" Saihara lost his words and looked down, lips pressed together and eyebrows furrowed.  
  
Ouma hummed and started to grab Amami's bag. "I thought I heard some beautiful singing."  
  
Ouma continued to stare in the direction of Amami's bag, preoccupying himself with zipping up the opened pockets, but he could see Saihara's head whip in his direction. Still focused on the bag, Ouma quickly added, "I don't really know who it was though."  
  
It was a lie. But hopefully it was one that would make Saihara more comfortable.  
  
Saihara continued to stare at Ouma, Ouma doing his best not to look back. He had to seem nonchalant, or else the act wouldn't work. _Well, Saihara-chan's smart enough, maybe he's already able to tell it's a lie_ , he figured.  
  
Ouma decided to emphasize more. "It's a real shame too!" he complained. "Their voice was so pretty, but it turns out I didn't even get to meet them." His voice took on a hint of melancholy as he said quietly, "It's sad... I would've wanted to praise them on how wonderful it was."  
  
Ouma then turned to Saihara, smiling softly yet slyly, looking deep into Saihara's eyes. "Do you have any idea who it could've been, Saihara-chan?"  
  
Saihara gazed back. His eyes bore no confusion at Ouma's words, nor relief that no one had heard him singing. He saw what Ouma was doing. The message was clear.  
  
_I won't tell anyone._  
  
Ouma saw recognition slowly fill in Saihara's eyes. Then he saw it replaced with something warm. Saihara smiled as he said, "Thank you, Ouma-kun."  
  
Ouma glanced away. "I don't really understand what you're thanking me for, Saihara-chan, I was just telling you what I heard."  
  
Saihara chuckled softly. "Mmhm, I guess you're right."  
  
Saihara then reached inside his locker, pulling out clothes and combing through his chlorine-soaked hair with a brush.  
  
Ouma watched Saihara subtly out of the corner of his eye. Saihara was still topless, drops of water dripping down from his hair down his chest. Ouma felt his cheeks go warm. _Saihara-chan really does look good... and it's not like I can... let an opportunity like this go to waste..._ _  
_  
Ouma took Amami's bag out of the locker and hoisted the bag's strap on his shoulder. As he closed the locker, an idea struck him. Just as he turned to leave, Ouma subtly opened an app on his phone.  
  
"By the way," Ouma added suddenly. "Before I go-," He whipped out the phone before the other could react and announced, "Gym selfie!"  
  
Ouma clicked the button before Saihara had the chance to protest.  
  
Ouma lowered his arm, examining the picture. In the photo Ouma held up a peace sign, face slightly pink and grin present on his face. Saihara was in the background, chest still bare and face flushed a raspberry red. The picture wasn't fine art to be sure, with a blurry focus and poor lighting, but it was instantly one of Ouma's favorites.  
  
_Even when caught off-guard Saihara-chan still looks beautiful_ , Ouma mused. He quickly saved it to his phone.  
  
Ouma didn't have to look behind him twice to know Saihara was flushed beyond imagination. Ouma heard Saihara squeak as he stuttered, "O-O-Ouma-kun!!"  
  
"Hahaha, I'll see you later Saihara-chan!" Ouma smiled at him and skipped away. "Next time I'll think of something more fun to do! Until then, adieu!," Ouma quickly exited the locker room, breathy giggles accompanying him all the way.  
  
He could still see Saihara's blushing face, clear and fresh in his mind as a spring morning.

—

Ouma stepped into the hall and sighed, relieved he could finally breathe again. His eyes widened when the realization of what had happened sunk in. What he had walked in on. Who he had walked in on.  
  
Who had sent him there in the first place. The conniving weasel that had this planned from the beginning.   
  
As Ouma walked away from the locker room, gym bag slung over his shoulder, he took out his phone and began to type furiously.  
  
_Ouma: Amami-chan, what on earth was that?  
  
Amami: lmao  
  
Ouma: Amami-chan I'm being serious  
  
Amami: what was what? (° ³ °) ?  
  
Ouma: you didn't tell me Saihara-chan would be there!! I almost walked in on him while he was changing!!  
  
Amami: hahah hooolly shit that's even better  
  
Ouma: So? Why was Saihara-chan there and how did you know about it?  
  
Amami: well ever since last week he comes in every morning and goes for a swim. Lol I thought it'd be nice for u to know  
  
Ouma: I  
Ouma: I am  
Ouma: Why  
  
Amami: soooo, what happened?? ୨( ﾟヮ ﾟ)୧  
  
Ouma: what do you think?!  
  
Amami: oya? Oyaoyaoya????  
Amami: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
  
Ouma: NO  
  
Amami: (    ͡°    ͜ ʖ    ͡°)  
  
Ouma: seriously, nothing happened you pervert  
  
Amami: _/(─ ͟ʖ─)\\_  
  
Ouma: Amami-chan, I love you, but it you keep using those unorthodox emoticons I'm going to disown you  
  
Amami: (☞´ ͜ʖ`) ☞  
  
Ouma: stop  
  
Amami: ¯\\_ (º ᗝ º) _/¯  
  
Ouma: Anyway, don't think this is over, Amami-chan. I'll get back at you for this.  
  
Amami: after I did you such a favor? I'm hurt (⸌ ε ⸍)  
  
Ouma: You put me in such an uncomfortable situation!!  
  
Amami: So you didn't enjoy it??  
  
Ouma: ...  
  
Amami: H a h  
  
Ouma: nevermind that's not important!!  
  
Amami: sure, I believe you.  
_  
_Prick,_  Ouma thought as he shoved the phone in his pocket. He didn't have to deal with this over text. He'd just go to Amami right now and give him what-for. Ouma's pace quickened as he thought furiously, _When I get back there Amami-chan is going to regret everything he's ever done in his miserable life-_  
  
Ouma was jostled out of his monologue when his phone vibrated loudly. He pulled it out and saw a message from his so-called best friend.  
  
_Amami: Just being a good guy and helping my bff out with his cruuuuusshhhhh_  
  
Ouma felt his indignation blaze as he started to type, _I am NOT in LOVE with-_  
  
Saihara's smile flashed across his mind. Ouma halted in his steps, fingers raised but still above his phone's keyboard.  
  
Suddenly Ouma's mind flooded with images of Saihara. He thought about Saihara's laugh, his voice, the look he had given Ouma when he took the cookies from his hands. He thought about how cute he had looked with flour on his cheek. He thought about his face that became flushed with the slightest praise. He thought about how Saihara saw through all the lies he had told so far. He thought about Saihara's singing, the gentle tune rising high above the steam of the locker room. He thought about how Saihara looked resting on the cot of the nurse's room. He thought about Saihara's smile, the warmth that spread through his heart when he saw it, how the room seemed to brighten around him.  
  
He thought about how happy it all made him.

_Oh._

_Oh..._

Ouma was speechless. The truth was there, and it was real. _  
  
I... I really do have a crush on Saihara-chan.... _  
  
The gravity of the realization knocked the air out of him. All at once, everything made sense, in a terrifying way. Ouma's fingers trembled slightly as he deleted his previous message and typed clumsily across the keyboard.  
  
_Ouma: Oh my god. Amami-chan, I... think I really do have a crush on Saihara-chan._  
  
Ouma's face flushed with the confession. He had said it. It was real.  
  
Ouma started to laugh to himself, his chest feeling lighter and a smile stretching across his cheeks. He felt free. He felt _alive_.  
  
_I have a crush on Saihara-chan!_ He screamed in his head.  
  
He felt giddy. He started to skip down the hall as he approached the classroom. When he felt his phone vibrate he took it out, not even caring that it was the same scoundrel that got him in this mess.  
_  
Amami: Hallelujiah! The blind man finally saw!_  
  
Ouma stuffed the phone in his pocket, not letting Amami's teasing affect him any longer. He had more important things to think about now. Like a certain new classmate, who was, and he finally admitted, quite adorable.  
  
Ouma continued to chuckle to himself as he made his way through the school. He had a crush on Saihara Shuuichi and nothing was going to ruin his mood. Not class, not homework, not anything.  
  
Not even Amami, who was currently blowing up his phone by sending him every verse of "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Disney's _Hercules_.  
  
Well. Maybe Amami was an exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denial isn't only a river in Egypt ¯\\_(´∇｀)_/¯
> 
> Notes on the chapter:  
> \- Amami's eyelashes: haha on Kodaka's blog (@official-kodaka) he said Amami had better lashes than Saihara, so I used that (＾▽＾) Just search "eyelashes" on his blog and you should find it.  
> \- Home Ec: I have not had a home economics class before, so I tried to research on what was taught in it, only to spend a lot of time finding nothing. So... I just... did sugar cookies. Because it's cute.  
> \- Sugar cookies: Apparently for sugar cookies you have to chill the dough for two hours before you pop them into the oven. I used this recipe for reference: http://www.bettycrocker.com/how-to/tipslibrary/baking-tips/how-to-make-classic-sugar-cookies  
> \- 375ºF: 190.5ºC  
> \- Saihara's singing: Saihara's VA, Megumi Hayabashira, is indeed a singer! The song he was singing was 4:00 AM by Taeko Ohnuki, because I love it so much :D. Since it's not on youtube anymore, here's the link: https://soundcloud.com/john-le-27/taeko-ohnuki-4-00-am-1978 . The part Saihara sings is 0:37-1:05. I'm learning Japanese, so I changed some of the phrasing to fit better in English. I used this for reference for the lyrics: http://lyricstranslate.com/en/400-am-400am.html  
> \- "You don't have to be scared...I won't do anything to you": based on a line in Ouma's Love Hotel scene  
> \- Amami's emoticons: Fun idea I had to have him use completely random emoticons. >ヮ< Used random generator to come up with them. http://textsmili.es/?cr=bW91dGh%2BX2V5ZXN%2BX2VhcnN%2B
> 
> Fanart that inspired the chapter: Literally the entire gym scene is entirely this person's fault go reblog it from them I died when I saw it the first time I can't believe I wrote that many words on it http://mintysugas.tumblr.com/post/156138962448/this-ship-wont-let-me-fucking-rest-i-have-a-class
> 
> That's all for now lovelies! I know the updates take a while but fear not! I work on it daily! Let me know if you find any mistakes! Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, I can't believe how nice you all are... I love you all. See you next time! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡


	4. Sunlight in Your Heart and Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-promoting is DISGUSTING.  
> Rant with me about it on Twitter @mirrorsnowings if you agree
> 
> Also from now on I'm gonna respond to all of your comments! Because I love all of you and I love your comments! 
> 
> Please pray for my soul finals are just around the corner and I'm screwed. 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter :)

_"Shuuichi," his mother called.  
  
Saihara pat-pat-patted his tiny feet all the way over to the kitchen. The sizzle of the frying pan echoed in their house, a buzz of movement and comfort. The house was cold with the winter snow falling outside the window, their old heater sputtering what was left of its life away. Saihara wore his blue overalls with long sleeved striped shirt, his favorite since he saw a boy in his favorite book wearing them. The book was lost now.  
  
He stopped in front of his mother's legs and looked up. She smiled at him fondly while chuckling. "Come help me, would you?"  
  
Saihara nodded, little feet pattering over to get the plastic stepping stool. When he set the stool by his mother, he climbed on top of it and peered over the edge of the counter, tiny fingers trying to hoist his chin above to see. His mother hummed while she worked, eyes relaxed and comfortable resting above the discolored bags she had below them. Her hair was thin and fell down her back without a wave, a waterfall of frayed silk.  
  
Saihara reached his nose forward until a spit of oil jumped out and attacked him. He yelped and jumped back, rubbing his nose and feeling his eyes tear up. He heard his mother murmur soothing words above him while he pressed his face into her leg, a hand softly running through his hair and resting on top of his head. When he had calmed enough he turned his head toward the spitting food again, still clinging to his mother's leg. Above the crackle his timid voice whispered, "What is it?"  
  
His mother continued to stir the substance as she answered, "It's tonkatsu," she whispered back. "We coat the meat in lots of tiny little bread crumbs, then we fry it in oil." She continued to run a hand through his hair, turning the meat over with chopsticks with the other.  
  
Saihara frowned at the meat, scrunching his nose at the way the oil bubbled around the meat and made the pan sizzle. His mother saw his expression and laughed, reassuring him, "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll like it. It's very tasty." She looked to the side and took the pot sitting on the counter. "Do you want to make the rice?"  
  
"Mm," he nodded. He grabbed the pot with both hands around the sides, feeling the cool metal underneath his palms. He stepped off of the stepping stool and placed the pot on the counter near the sink, moving his stepping stool over to the faucet. He picked up a measuring cup and filled it twice with water, carefully spilling it into the pot. Then he stepped down from the stool and walked over to his mother, whose eyes had followed him all the while. "Is this good?" he asked quietly.  
  
She smiled at him, taking the pot from his hands and placing it on the stove. "Yes, it is. Do you remember how much rice to put in?"  
  
"Umm... one cup."  
  
She beamed at him as he walked over and grasped the handle of the measuring cup, handing it to his mother. She filled the rice in the cup as he moved his stepping stool and climbed atop it, by her side once more. He gazed into the pot and watched it until the bubbles flitted to the surface , heat coming up and caressing his cheeks.  
  
"Steady, now," she whispered to him, taking his pudgy palm in hers. Together, they slowly tilted their palms until the cup of rice poured into the boiling pot, every grain plunged in water. "You did it," she encouraged him, a hand on his shoulder and a voice in his ear. "I'm so proud of you."  
  
Saihara's cheeks lifted up as a smile filled his face. When the rice had cooked and the tonkatsu was ready, they ate beside each other, talking and smiling throughout. Later, Saihara would remember tonkatsu as one of his favorite recipes, one that reminded him of home. His mother's voice filled his ears, her intonation filling the cracks in his memory. "Shuuichi," she called to him. "Shuuichi."  
  
"Shuuichi." _  
  
Saihara awoke.  
  
He blinked his eyes open calmly, the tenderness of the memory still enveloping his heart and mind.  
  
He sat up slowly. As he gazed around his bare room, early morning darkness spilling through the curtains, he listened. The emptiness of the house echoed around him. Saihara glanced at the clock.  
  
_4:49 AM_  
  
Saihara fell back on his pillow, dreariness already setting in for the day. His thoughts still lingered on the dream, the faint smell of tonkatsu still filling his nostrils. He had forgotten about that family tradition. He and his father had been too hurt to consider it when she was first admitted to the hospital. Then life got in the way and they hadn't had it since.  
  
He missed family meals. It felt like forever since he'd had one.  
  
Saihara lay in bed for an hour or so more, letting the stillness fill the cavern of loneliness he felt. He then got up, heart weary and eyes sagging, and started getting ready. Later, when he was making breakfast, he'd hear his mother's laugh in the spaces between the clanking of kitchen utensils on pans.  
  
She was never more than a voice.

—

Saihara could barely keep his eyes open amongst the drift of passengers on the morning train. The light blue coloring of the sky blended with the fog in his brain and did nothing to increase his alertness. If anything it only added to the melancholy leftover from his dream. As he stared at his window reflection he noted the bags under his eyes. He looked positively deceased.  
  
When he finally stepped off and walked toward the school campus, he really _felt_ deceased. _Do a few hours really make such a difference? I only woke up a little before 5!_  he groused in his head. As he joined the throngs of the crowd heading to school, he heard a voice accompanied by an arm on his shoulder.  
  
"Dude! You look like a total zombie!" Momota announced, matching Saihara's pace to walk beside him. "You okay, man?"  
  
Saihara sighed. "I'm fine, Momota-kun... I just didn't sleep well."  
  
Momota looked at him a bit longer. Saihara was almost unnerved by how intently Momota was observing him, but Momota quickly broke his serious gaze and grinned, patting Saihara's back again. "Alright, I believe you man."  
  
Saihara released his apprehension. His friend was just concerned. As he looked around he saw various students walking toward the school, but not nearly as many as the school held every day. It was early after all, school wouldn't begin for another forty minutes or so.  
  
_Wait._ Saihara turned his head. "Momota-kun, what are you doing here? It's too early for school."  
  
"Haha, Saihara, you didn't know? I workout every morning! Gotta keep up these guns," he explained as lifted his arms and flexed. Saihara did admit it looked like he'd been working out consistently.  
  
"Do you workout with Gokuhara-kun?"  
  
"Gonta? Ah, I see him but we don't work out together too often..." Momota trailed off as he scratched his head.  
  
Saihara took note of Momota's tone. From what he was hearing it seemed like the two didn't interact much. _Do my classmates not mingle beyond their friend groups too much?_ The thought saddened him.  
  
Momota continued to scratch his head. "Come to think of it, why are you here? And how did you know Gonta works out?"  
  
"Ah, I work out in the mornings too."  
  
"What?" Momota raised his voice, "You mean we could've been working out together and you didn't tell me?!"  
  
_Oh no_ , A voice in his head whispered. _I've made Momota-kun upset... Not even a few weeks into my transfer and I'm already going to lose a friend._ Saihara suddenly felt very small. "I... I didn't know." His voice felt weak to his own ears.  
  
"Saihara-kun! Momota-kun!"  
  
The conversation paused when they heard a voice and steps coming up to them. Akamatsu walked up to Saihara's side as she greeted them. "Hey you two! Ready to start the day?"  
  
Her smile was infectious. Saihara felt the weight of the morning begin to ease. "Good morning, Akamatsu-san."  
  
"Good morning, Saihara-kun!" She replied with a sunshine-filled smile. Saihara was gradually growing more comfortable with her presence. He hoped they would continue to become good friends, as he was aware of how much they were bonding already.  
  
Akamatsu continued, "What were you guys talking about?"  
  
"Akamatsu, it's unbelievable!" Momota exclaimed, arms in the air. "Saihara has been going to the gym and working out without me!"  
  
Saihara felt meek as he nervously peered down. The nerves were back again. "I, I didn't know-"  
  
"Now, that's not fair, Momota-kun!" Akamatsu chided him. "You can't blame Saihara-kun for not knowing! And if it bothers you so much, why don't you offer to work out with him instead?"  
  
Momota sighed exasperatedly. "You're such a _mom_ , Akamatsu."  
  
She huffed and placed her hands on her hips, but stayed silent. Saihara oddly felt like a child watching his parents fight. _That's ridiculous_ , he scolded himself, _we're all the same age._  
  
Momota then turned to Saihara and placed a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "So, how 'bout it dude? Want to work out together in the mornings?"  
  
Saihara's cheeks flushed slightly and his mouth opened. "I-I would love to," he responded. His eyes widened as he realized how he sounded. _Great, now you sound pushy, way to go Shuuichi._ He backpedaled to try and recover the statement, "I mean, if you want to and it's no trouble-"  
  
"Relax, dude, I asked you," Momota pacified him. He continued to strengthen his grip on Saihara's shoulder as he cheered, "Woohoo! We're going to be workout buds! Just you wait, Saihara, we're going to get as close as can get!"  
  
Saihara allowed a small smile to grow on his face. It was encouraging to see people reach out to him. He turned to Akamatsu. "By the way, Akamatsu-san, why are you here early in the morning?"  
  
She beamed. "I'm on the student council!"  
  
"That must be a lot of work for you, on top of being the class representative..."  
  
"It's fine!" She answered, a smile growing soft around the edges. "If it means I can help everyone in the class have a better time here, then I'll take on any task imaginable!" She rose her fists in the air to emphasize this, a determined gleam in her eyes.  
  
Her statement filled Saihara with peace. _I really am in good hands here_ , he realized. He relaxed at the thought, and was suddenly reminded of exactly why one should not relax when tired as he stumbled off-balance.  
  
"Woah man," Momota said, readjusting his grip on Saihara's shoulders to steady him. "You sure you're okay?"  
  
It took him a second to respond, exhaustion still holding his alertness hostage. "Mm."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay? You really do look miserable..." Akamatsu fretted, face peering into his. "Is there something we can do?"  
  
Saihara felt his heart swell as his stress dissipated. It still felt like a miracle that the people here cared about him. He smiled at them. "No, I'll be all right... but thank you."  
  
"Of course!" Akamatsu smiled gently at him. "What are friends for?"  
  
Saihara smiled back, heart feeling lighter than ever.  
  
_Yeah... what are friends for?_  
  
The trio continued to walk back into the school building, only separating when they got to their desks.

—

"Saihara-chan looks tired today."  
  
Amami slid his gaze over to his friend, who was, not surprisingly, looking over to where Saihara was seated. Amami then looked over to Saihara, who was talking with an enthusiastic Momota about getting lunch. Amami noticed Saihara's complexion and the slow blinks he gave every few seconds.  
  
Amami huffed. _He really does look exhausted_ , he mused.  
  
He looked back over to Ouma. Ouma stared at Saihara intently, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly turning down. It was unusual to see Ouma displaying his emotions so openly. Was he even aware of it?  
  
"Are you worried?" Amami asked.  
  
Ouma whipped his head to face Amami, anger and hurt written upon his face, only to drop them both when he saw Amami's expression. Amami wasn't teasing him. Ouma sank in his seat and looked down. He remained silent for a bit before replying. "Yeah... I guess I am."  
  
Amami saw Ouma frown at his hands, fingers clenched together and lips turned down. It must be bad if Ouma wasn't making a witty comeback to hide his insecurity.  
  
Amami smiled encouragingly at him. "Don't fret about it. He'll be okay. And if he looks bad later you can go check up on him, alright?"  
  
Ouma met Amami's eyes and noticed his gentle demeanor. "...Alright. I'll check on him later if he's still looking that desolate." Ouma sighed and put his hands in his cheeks, elbows on the desk. "It's almost making me depressed, just looking at how awful he looks."  
  
Amami chuckled. "He'll be okay, Ouma-kun. And if he isn't, you'll be there to help him when he needs it."  
  
Ouma didn't look back at him, but the sight of his shoulders relaxing was enough to let Amami know he heard him.

—

It was pleasant and sunny up on the roof as four students ate their lunches quietly. Saihara had had enough time in the morning to make more food than usual, and was happily digging in. He found himself eating more these days ever since he started working out. Plus eating distracted him from how tired he was. He was still on the brink of falling asleep, but at least he could feel a bit of energy returning to him.  
  
Akamatsu swallowed a bite of her sandwich and turned to him. "Saihara-kun, do you have an elective yet?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. Currently I have study hour at the library."  
  
"Lucky," Momota commented. "If I were you I'd totally just use that hour to slack off during then. It's not like anyone is going to check if I'm doing work, right?"  
  
"I don't think that's how you're supposed to use study hour, Momota-kun," Kiibo remarked.  
  
"Hey, a man's gotta get his rest in!"  
  
"You mean beauty sleep?" Harukawa chimed in.  
  
Saihara laughed at both Harukawa's addition and Momota's bewildered expression. He quickly stopped when he noticed they were both looking at him. He flitted his gaze between them and the ground. "Ah, I'm sorry, that was just-"  
  
Momota reached over and grabbed his other shoulder, crushing him in a sideways hug. "There you go, Shuuichi! I was getting worried since I hadn't heard you laugh yet!"  
  
_Shuuichi?!_ Saihara almost choked on his saliva. "Shuuichi?" his voice cracked.  
  
Momota just laughed. "Yeah! You're one of us now! And now that we're workout buddies I'm gonna use your first name," Momota ruffled his hair with the other hand. "Is that okay bro?"  
  
Saihara laughed, light and airy. "Yeah, it's okay _bro_."  
  
The group laughed together at the top of the school. For the first time since he transferred schools, Saihara felt as if he was back to having a place to call home.

—

Saihara made his way around the library. It was his study period and he decided to use it for investigating the shelves and shelves of books the academy had to offer. Technically, he was supposed to be in an elective, but he hadn't chosen one yet. Transfer problems, he supposed.  
  
He walked quietly, head gazing above at the staircase above him, lined with books all the way up. The golden railing gleamed in the sunlight. Windows were placed every few shelves along the staircase, letting in the afternoon glow. It was something out of a fairytale. Saihara stared in awe. He was sure he could be there for hours and never get bored of the sight.  
  
Saihara continued to look around. _I wonder what kind of books I should pick up?_ he pondered. He could try some nonfiction. Or some fantasy works. Maybe some mystery novels? _Yeah_ , Saihara thought, heart lifting with the thought. _I should pick up a new mystery to look into._ He loved mystery novels, having practically grown up with the Sherlock Holmes novels tucked under his pillow when he was young. He smiled as he remembered those books, edges worn but cared for. They were some of the few items Saihara had brought with him to the new city. They now sat lovingly atop his desk, neatly placed between bookends.  
  
As he rounded a corner he spotted someone sitting at a nearby table. He lightly called out, "Ah, Shinguuji-kun!"  
  
Shinguuji lifted his head from being immersed in his book, a heavy textbook it would seem, to peer up at Saihara. His long hair draped over his shoulders like swamp moss, eyes set in his skull like a watchful tiger. He wore a white face mask that covered his mouth and nose that people usually wore when they were sick. _Does Shinguuji-kun get affected by diseases easily?_ Saihara wondered. Shinguuji's eyes lazily followed his form as Saihara came up to him. "I didn't know you were here."  
  
"Yes..." Shinguuji responded. He spoke his words at a leisurely pace, clearly disinclined to rush through any conversation. "I volunteer in the library during my elective period. That way I can use it for study hour as well."  
  
Saihara tried to focus on his words. Shinguuji had a voice that was deep and soothing. If he wasn't careful Saihara would fall asleep to it. Being especially sleep-deprived today didn't help. Saihara blinked when he realized he was done talking. "I currently have study hour as well. Though I think that's because I haven't signed up for an elective yet..."  
  
Shinguuji nodded. Saihara blinked again as he noticed Shinguuji staring at him. Saihara fidgeted subtly before adding, "Well, I didn't mean to disturb your reading. I was just glad to see a familiar face. I'd like to know what you're reading, if you don't mind?" Saihara unawarely started threading his hands through his bangs, looking off to the side. "I'm looking for a book to read myself..."  
  
Shinguuji's eyes bore into Saihara's face. Saihara began to feel more and more like he was standing on top of a cliff. Like at any moment the crumbling cliff would give way and he would fall...  
  
Shinguuji turned his head towards his book. "Have you read any traditional literature?"  
  
Saihara blinked, relieved Shinguuji didn't reprimand him for his question. "Ah, a little, though it was mostly for school."  
  
"I see," Shinguuji responded.  
  
"Is that what you're reading?" Saihara prompted.  
  
Shinguuji slid his gaze over to him. Saihara noticed he tended to do that–slide his gaze over to someone. It was deliberate, calculated, measured, almost as if to let the listener know they had his full, watchful attention. Shinguuji spoke. "Yes. I'm revisiting a story called  _The Kibitsu Cauldron_."  
  
Saihara hummed. "I haven't heard of that one. Could you tell me about it?"  
  
"Of course," Shinguuji drawled. "Come closer and I could show you."  
  
Saihara drew closer until he was at Shinguuji's side, peering down at the book's contents. The pages were filled with small words and hand-drawn pictures of the scenes. Saihara suspected this was older literature.  
  
Shinguuji pointed a long wiry finger at the drawings. "It's part of a collection of works published in the Edo period," he explained, voice taking a laggardly pace. "This particular story is about an unfaithful husband and a vengeful wife, even in death."  
  
"A ghost story?" Saihara observed.  
  
Shinguuji nodded and began again. "A man obtains a loyal wife, but he runs away with a prostitute he had become attached to. In a fit of agony and betrayal the wife dies and haunts the body of the prostitute, killing her husband in revenge."  
  
Saihara shuddered. "Why... why didn't the husband stay with his wife?"  
  
Shinguuji's eyes took on a shine Saihara hadn't seen before. "Humans are so prone to fall for such frivolous desires. The man was unfaithful and only drawn to beauty and pleasure, even so immoral to trick his wife into raising the money for he and the prostitute to run away." At this Shinguuji turned to face Saihara, eyes smoldering with disdain. "Tell me, Saihara-kun... Does that sound like a man worth saving to you?"  
  
Saihara frowned, placing a hand to his chin in thought. "Certainly, I wouldn't say he was innocent... but I think it's important to look into all sides of the story before passing judgement." Saihara gazed down to the pictures, the inky black lines portraying the man and his mistakes. "I only know what you've told me about the story, so I'd need to read everything before deciding. Cheating and tricking someone, especially a spouse, is despicable but... I think even some of the darkest deeds may be understandable if you walk in someone else's shoes. Of course, that doesn't excuse those deeds but..."  
  
Saihara stopped himself from jolting when he realized how intently Shunguuji was staring at him. Saihara coughed, glancing away. "...From what you've told me though, that doesn't seem like a man whose actions are easy to look back on and forgive."  
  
Shinguuji continued to bore his eyes into Saihara's face, much to Saihara's growing discomfort. _Did... did I say something wrong?_  
  
His classmate then chuckled, a deep sound that murmured and echoed against the walls of the library. His eyes were still fixated on Saihara, but the intensity of his gaze had weakened. A blooming interest replaced any animosity Saihara may have saw in his eyes. "You are quite the interesting specimen, Saihara-kun."  
  
Saihara's brows furrowed. "Um... thank you? I was just stating what I thought though..."  
  
"Many people would have agreed with my question right away," Shinguuji explained. "After all, we're trained from birth to view everything as a black-and-white issue, so much that we lose our perception and focus."  
  
Shinguuji placed his chin in his hand. "Sympathizing with the lowest of lives, yet not condoning their actions... you must be very special indeed. I wonder where life will take you..."  
  
Saihara was very confused with this admission, and had nothing to say about it. The silence stretched on and Saihara became more nervous. Shinguuji staring at him didn't help. He decided to take the safe option and divert to another topic. "Well, thank you so much for sharing with me, Shinguuji-kun. I'll let you get back to your reading."  
  
Shinguuji nodded at this and picked up the edges of his book again. As Saihara walked past his chair he called out, "Was there a certain book you were looking for?"  
  
Saihara turned back around. "Yes, I was looking for the mystery novel section..."  
  
Shinguuji pointed a thin finger towards the far bookshelf. Saihara glanced and saw the sign "Mystery Fiction" hanging above it. Saihara grinned. "Thank you, Shinguuji-kun!"  
  
As he walked away, Saihara wasn't aware of how Shinguuji's eyes followed his figure into the far bookshelves, an inquisitive eye trying to unravel the mysteries buried deep in the young man at just a glance.  
  
"How beautiful," he whispered.  
  
Shinguuji then resumed his reading, diving into the world of folklore once more.

—

Saihara was grateful Shinguuji had showed him the way, otherwise he was sure he would've spent another twenty minutes just finding the books he was interested in reading. True, he had his homework with him, but what was the point of going into a library if you weren't going to find out where your favorite books were?  
  
Saihara rounded the corner and found the mystery section, the view almost straight out of a dream. The books stacked high on the bookcases and the sunlight streamed in through a window, illuminating a cushioned window seat that begged to be used.  
  
Saihara's smile brightened as he set his bag down by the window and looked around. It was surprising how many books on the shelves he didn't know, considered he had read, or at least attempted, every mystery novel his last town's library had to offer. He picked one up at random and, deciding based on the summary it was worth a go, sat down and began to read. The light was perfect for reading, and the cushions melded into his back. Sunlight filtered through the glass panes and gave the area a pleasantly warm atmosphere.  
  
Saihara felt bliss as he delved into the words, sunlight providing him with enough warmth that it blanketed him. This would be his new favorite corner, he decided.  
  
It was only when his eyelids began to grow heavy that he realized how exhausted he really was. Without meaning to he drifted off to sleep, head leaning against the windowsill and pages of a book still between his fingers.

—

Twenty-eight minutes.  
  
It had been twenty-eight minutes since fifth period had started and Saihara was nowhere to be seen. The teacher had already marked him absent. _Where is he?!_ Ouma thought frustratedly.  
  
If Ouma wasn't worried before he certainly was now. Saihara wasn't the type to skip class. At least, Ouma didn't think so. _I mean, maybe he is the type to skip class and I just misread him. Maybe? But that doesn't seem right, Saihara's responsible. Wait, how would I know? It's only been a few weeks since he got here, what if I'm completely wrong? Once again Saihara's throwing me for a loop-_  
  
Ouma's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a snicker. Ouma glared at the only person who would laugh at him in such a state. Amami bore a confident grin on his face as if he knew exactly what Ouma was thinking. _Hell_ , Ouma thought, eye twitching, _he probably does since we've known each other for so long._  
  
That's it, he was going to take matters into his own hands no matter how much Amami would make fun of him for it later. Ouma's face became resolute.   
  
"Going to go rescue your _boyfriend?_ " Amami whispered.  
  
Ouma hissed before harshly replying, "Knock it off, Amami-chan! He isn't my boyfriend!" The hissed tone sounded like a snake preparing to strike.  
  
As if that intimidated Amami at all. "Not yet, you mean."  
  
Had the two been paying attention, they would've realized a head beside them had twitched, hand stilling to listen in.  
  
Ouma gave up. He raised his hand. "Hey teacher, can I go look for Saihara-chan?"  
  
The teacher paused and gave a worried glance. "Saihara-kun? I guess he has been gone since class started..."  
  
One look into Ouma's puppy-dog eyes and she was done for. He had been perfecting it for years after all. The shimmer of tears in Ouma's eyes, the pleading look on his face, it was a wonder why the teachers didn't figure out what a rascal he really was.  
  
She gave in. "All right, Ouma-kun, but please be quick about it."  
  
"Thank you teacher, you're the best!" Ouma called as he swiftly exited the classroom. _Let's see..._ he thought. _Last period was elective period. But nobody seems to have seen Saihara-chan, otherwise he would have come with them for fifth period. Plus he's a transfer student, so he probably doesn't have an elective. And no elective means..._  
  
Ouma's face brightened. "The library!"  
  
Ouma whistled as he walked over the the library entrance. The wide doors were heavy and old, but he pushed them open just the same. He glanced around. "Saihara-chan? You in here?"  
  
Silence. A few heads had turned to look at Ouma, but none of them cared too much beyond the minor disruption. Ouma frowned and made his way over to the librarian's desk. He ringed a bell and the librarian glanced over to see him. He grinned, teeth showing and cheeks high. "Hey Miss Librarian, can you help me find my friend?"  
  
The librarian studied his figure carefully, before sitting up from her desk and walking over. "Well, what does he look like?" she mumbled.  
  
Ouma beamed. "Well, he's got dark hair that comes down to his chin, and he's a bit taller than me as well. Have you seen him?"  
  
The librarian frowned. "I haven't."  
  
Ouma's eyes started to well up, fake tears at the ready. "Are you sure? I'm super worried about him, he hasn't shown up to class yet..."  
  
"If he was just skipping class why'd you have to bother me?!" the librarian hissed.  
  
Ouma chuckled. "Wow, you're not very polite Miss Librarian." He toned his amusement down before asking seriously, "I know you may not believe me, but he's a good kid! He turns in his homework on time and everything." His eyes began to water up again, childlike meekness painted on his face. "I'm worried about him..."  
  
The librarian sighed, hand brushing through her hair as she adjusted her glasses. "Well, now that you mention it, a volunteer around your age mentioned such a boy-"  
  
"Really? Who?" Ouma interrupted.  
  
"Shinguuji Korekiyo. He had to go to class this period so he couldn't stay, but he did fill me in on an interaction with a boy like you're describing."  
  
_Shinguuji-chan, if I had known you had seen him I would've asked you!_ Ouma thought with slight annoyance. Nevertheless he put on a placating smile. "Yes, Shinguuji-chan's in my class! Do you know where the boy he was talking about is?"  
  
"I recall him talking about how he wanted to look into the mystery section, but I don't-"  
  
"Thanks Miss Librarian, you're the best!" Ouma thanked cheerfully as he walked away.  
  
She scoffed, the frustration of getting interrupted lacing her tone. "Kids these days."  
  
Ouma giggled and left her. As he walked through the bookshelves he checked each of the aisles, seeing if a certain boy was there. _Did Saihara-chan just loose track of the time?_ He thought. _It still doesn't seem like him though._  
  
Ouma walked until he came upon the mystery section, books filling the aisle and every cranny. Ouma grinned as he glanced at the titles. Ouma usually didn't read mystery all that often, but he did enjoy a criminal fiction novel every once and a while. The chase between the killer or the thief between the detective always got his heart racing. In his daydreams he'd imagine himself on the run, but from who or to what was always a blur. He thought he'd be the detective, gallantly chasing after a criminal and pursuing justice, but perhaps the route of a thief suited him better. After all, the life of a thief sounded much more fun.  
  
He was beginning to really start to wonder where Saihara was as he passed through the aisles. He was almost to the end of the mystery section and there was still no sign of Saihara. _Really, Saihara-chan_ , he huffed. _Why do you always have to be so difficult to find?_  
  
Ouma was about at the last drop of his patience when he rounded the final corner and saw what he was searching for.  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. _Well, now we know why Saihara-chan was skipping class..._  
  
Saihara was cozied up against the windowpane, head laid against the glass and book about to fall from his fingertips. The sunlight streamed across his face and he breathed silent breaths.  
  
Saihara was out like a light.  
  
Ouma relaxed, quietly walking over to Saihara. He stopped in front of him, eyes carefully watching his face. Saihara's eyelashes were as long as he remembered them, laying across the soft skin underneath his eyes like lace. Ouma wanted to reach out and touch his hair. _His hair's probably warm from being in the sun for a while_ , he figured. In the sunlight his dark hair almost took on a navy blue color. Ouma's fingers reached out to touch his hair, only to rescind them a few seconds later. _It's not my place_ , he admitted. _I won't get Saihara-chan to trust me like this._  
  
Ouma dropped his hand but proceed to stare, drinking in every detail. He wanted to stay there forever, watching Saihara with no one there to judge him. Ouma knew better though.  
  
Squashing his own desire, he softly shook Saihara's shoulders. "Saihara-chan. Wake up, we have to go to class."  
  
Saihara groaned and scrunched his eyes shut. Ouma's heart quietly flipped at the sight. Slowly Saihara's eyes opened, eyes finding Ouma's after a second of refocusing.  
  
Ouma was rooted on the spot. Similar to how the light affected his hair, now the sunlight was changing the color of Saihara's eyes. Staring into Ouma's eyes was a vibrant golden yellow, reminding Ouma of the eyes of a wolf, or maybe the sparkle of stolen jewelry.  
  
Saihara blinked, breaking through the silence. "Ouma-kun? What are you doing here?"  
  
It took Ouma a second to remember how to speak. Then he laughed, leaning away from Saihara's face (he had been closer than he would've liked to admit) and crossed his arms above his head. "You fell asleep in the library, Saihara-chan! So I came to pick you up."  
  
Saihara blinked slowly, still lethargic from his short nap. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, the book finally slipping from his fingers. "Oh... is it fifth period already?"  
  
_Don't do that_ , Ouma pleaded internally. The slow blinking and now rubbing his eyes. _Dammit_ , Ouma thought. _How can he be so cute? Does he know what it's doing to me?_  
  
Ouma realized Saihara's question was still unanswered. "Well, with how long it's been it might be the end of fifth period, but yeah."  
  
Saihara stopped rubbing his eyes and sat up straight. He really did look cute like that, expression panicked but still too exhausted to give off anything other than a pout. Ouma's lips turned up at the sight unbiddingly.  
  
"Is it really that late?" Saihara asked.  
  
"Hmm," Ouma hummed as he checked his phone. _2:45 PM_. "Yep! In fact class is almost over so we might as well head back to go home."  
  
Saihara stared at Ouma, still not awake enough to realize he was staring. "Oh," he said belatedly.  
  
Ouma giggled. "Besides, you have to go to that oh-so-important thing you do after school everyday, right?"  
  
Saihara flinched, eyes filled with mild panic. His lethargy evaporated in an instant.  
  
Ouma put his hands up reassuringly. "Don't worry, don't worry, I won't pry."  
  
Saihara studied Ouma's expression for a while before dropping his shoulders and relaxing. Saihara picked up the bag and his book as he followed Ouma to the library's entrance. "Thank you for waking me up, Ouma-kun."  
  
"It's fine, it's fine. Just make sure you get to sleep on time tonight, okay?"  
  
Saihara nodded, words stuttering as they left his mouth. "O-okay."  
  
Ouma beamed as he lead Saihara to the front desk. Saihara calmly asked the librarian to check out his book. As she looked up to him Ouma called out to her, "Oh, Miss Librarian, I found my friend!"  
  
Saihara's mouth dropped open slightly. The librarian, on the other hand, did not look pleased to be called out in such a way. "Well, good for you. I'm glad my measly information could help."  
  
"Aww, don't be like that Miss Librarian," Ouma whined. "You helped me find him! If it weren't for you I would still be so worried about him."  
  
Ouma used this opportunity to lace his arm around Saihara's and lean on his shoulder, much to Saihara's surprise. Saihara couldn't look away, mouth still open and blush steadily dusting his cheeks.  
  
The librarian stared at the two for a minute before smirking. She turned to Saihara and asked, "Well, kid? Are you going to check out that book?"  
  
Saihara recovered from his shock quickly. "Oh, yes, of course," he responded as he handed her the book. She scanned the barcode and stamped the inside, handing him the book back. "Cheers," she muttered.  
  
"Thank you, Miss Librarian!" Ouma snatched the book before Saihara could reach for it. "I hope we meet again soon!" he called as he dragged his classmate out of the library.  
  
The librarian shook her head to herself, already feeling like she had worked enough for the day. "Teenagers," she mumbled.

—

Saihara was almost stumbling out of the library as Ouma tugged on his arm, making their way through the hallway. "O-Ouma-kun! Wait!"  
  
Ouma giggled breathlessly. "Aw, Saihara-chan wants to spend more time with me?"  
  
Saihara started to blush again. "Ouma-kun, you know that's not what I-"  
  
"Yep, yep, I know." He let go of Saihara's arm and held the book out to him, which he had thankfully kept in his grasp. "Here you go, Saihara-chan."  
  
Saihara took the book and nodded at him. "Thank you for waking me up earlier Ouma-kun, really."  
  
"No problem," Ouma cheerfully replied. His eyes took on a mischievous glint before adding, "Anything for my beloved Saihara-chan."  
  
Saihara's eyes snaped fully open as he stared at Ouma. _Beloved?!_ He shrieked in his head.  
  
Ouma laughed heartily as he turned away. "It was just a joke, Saihara-chan! Honestly you're so gullible," he snickered as he looked at Saihara over his shoulder.  
  
Saihara still felt extremely confused, but decided to chalk it up to Ouma's antics again. He sighed, stepping in to walk beside Ouma.  
  
As they continued to talk on the way back to the classroom, Saihara couldn't stop thinking about how kind it had been for Ouma to check up on him. It hadn't been Akamatsu or Momota, Kiibo, or even Harukawa. It had been Ouma. Even though he had people to rely on in his friend group, it made him happy that he could go to other people in his class and rely on them as well.  
  
As Saihara walked from the school to the train to the hospital and back home, he bathed in the feeling. The feeling of having friends, and having classmates kind enough to want to talk to him and become his friend was way more than he had been hoping for. When he had first arrived he thought that the most he would get would be classmates that minded their own business and left him alone.  
  
As he stirred the tonkatsu in the boiling oil at home, he smiled as he thought of all the people in his class he could grow closer to. Nothing was stopping him from become friends with all of them. Nothing was stopping him from finding another home here. As he finished his dinner and prepared his father's plate to put in the refrigerator, he wrote a small note to his father as well.  
  
_Hello Father,  
  
I had lots of fun at school today. I keep making friends and I even hang out with them in the mornings now. Isn't that amazing?  
  
I had a dream today about Mother making tonkatsu, so I cooked some today. It's been a while since we've had a family meal, huh? I hope you're getting enough rest and I wish you luck at work.  
  
Love you,  
Shuuichi _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be titled "Saiharaisexhausted.pdf" There is so much sunlight in this chapter what the heck...
> 
> Notes on the chapter:  
> \- Tonkatsu: I've been having a lot of Tonkatsu lately, haha. In Japan it's sort of comfort food, so I thought that it'd work for a family-bonding meal. I used this recipe for reference http://www.justonecookbook.com/tonkatsu/ Be sure when you make tonkatsu that you dispose of the oil properly!!  
> \- Saihara's mother: When I was Saihara's dream I kept imagining his mother as Kirigiri because it was so cute... that's not to say she is, or isn't. You can imagine Saihara's mother (and father, for that matter) as whoever you want them to be. For now, I'm leaving it open-ended ;3c  
> \- Momota calling him "Shuuichi": I was looking at ndrv3 videos and I think Momota calls him by his first name? So I made that a thing without uprooting my previous chapters haha  
> \- Shinguuji's mask: Uh, who else can't imagine him without a mask? So I made it work. In Japan people often wear face masks to prevent the spread of disease.  
> \- Saihara touching his bangs: When I had bangs I would constantly stroke them when talking to people when I got nervous. I figured Saihara would also do this if his hat wasn't on his head.  
> \- The Kibitsu Cauldron: I'm taking a Japanese Literature class this term and for it we had to read Ugetsu Monogatari (Tales of Moonlight and Rain) by Ueda Akinari. It was written in the Edo period (18th century) and was about ghosts and demons, right up Shinguuji's folklore alley. Technically we read "The Serpent's Lust" but I didn't like it that much... so I used "The Kibitsu Cauldron" instead. It's 100% a real work, but I kept it vague bc I haven't read it. If you look it up you should be able to find the manga I read for reference :'D  
> \- Miss Librarian: When I was writing this I kept imagining Fukawa as the librarian so I wrote her as if she was XD. It's not official though, you can imagine the librarian as whomever you want. I just thought it'd be a fun thing to do, especially since I kept imagining Kirigiri as Saihara's mom
> 
> Fanart that inspired the chapter:  
> Since I kept imagining Kirigiri as Saihara's mom, I also am linking parent au fanart. Bc it's adorable. Freya-bellamy's parent au is so adorable, I'm linking both the Saihara's mom is Kirigiri post and the more recent Komahina + Oumamisai post bc I love it so much. I highly encourage you to check out the rest of their parent au too!  
> http://freya-bellamy.tumblr.com/post/157460387553/shuichi-wants-to-be-the-very-best-but-mommy-set  
> http://freya-bellamy.tumblr.com/post/157960839024/komahina-will-never-be-ready-to-share-their-son  
> Also I saw a post recently that reminded me SO MUCH of the dream sequence that I'm gonna link it as well! http://qosic.tumblr.com/post/158270279453/mommas-boy-inspired-by
> 
> :D Please reblog from both these artists and support them!
> 
> That's chapter four! I'm loving what I have planned for the next chapter, so stay tuned. I love you all and hope you have a lovely week. See you soon! ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ


	5. Your Smile, How it Twinkles and Shines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *breaks through the mound of finals and midterms I had to go through to get here* I LIIIIIIIIIIVEEEEEEEE!!!!!
> 
> God, this chapter kept growing longer and longer and it just kept growing. So here, take this 10.9k monster. I seriously need to make these chapters shorter OTL. This chapter started out as something completely self-indulgent but it... turned into real talk and fluff? What the heck. 
> 
> Thank you all to those who commented on Ch.4 weeks after it had come out! U gave me hope and determination to complete the chapter ;w;. Also a shoutout to queenofdragons2 for beta'ing the last chapters! I'll be going back and updating them soon, I just thought you guys would want the chapter first. ヽ(´∀`)ノ
> 
> So, without further ado, please enjoy Chapter 5! I'll work hard to get this fic back on a regular schedule. We're not even close to the stuff I want to write about yet. Buckle your seats later, kiddos, but for now enjoy the fluff =u=
> 
> Warnings: mentions of bullying and depressed thoughts :(

"Saihara Shuuichi!"  
  
Saihara immediately froze in his seat and sat up straight. The last time someone had bellowed his name like that had been when he accidentally set the kitchen on fire.  
  
(Pouring water over a grease fire had certainly not been the right course of action. The resulting explosion had haunted Saihara's nightmares for months.)  
  
He turned his head to see Chabashira stomping over, eyes poised to kill. Saihara didn't know what trouble he was in and didn't want to make it any worse. He tried greeting her in an attempt to ease some of the tension. "Ah, hello Chabashira-san..."  
  
"Don't 'hello' Tenko!" she declared as she slammed her hands on his desk. "You know what you've done!"  
  
Saihara resisted shrinking in his seat. No, he did not know what he had done. What had he done to make Chabashira so angry? "I'm sorry, you'll need to clarify. I don't recall doing anything-"  
  
"Our deal!"  
  
Saihara blinked. _Deal? I don’t recall making any-_  
  
_Oh._  
  
_Ooohhh._  
  
"Chabashira-san, if this is about what happened during that one volleyball practice, you don't really need to concern yourself with-"  
  
"Of course Tenko does!" She reiterated with a steely gaze. "We swore to a deal and now we have to enact it! Tenko swore on her honor as an Aikido master!"  
  
"So... this isn't something you can just drop," he concluded. _This makes things difficult_ , he mused. _I don't really have anything I want from Chabashira-san. Maybe I could–_  
  
"You're taking too long to think!" Chabashira shouted, once again hitting the desk to make a point. She leaned in, disgust etching her features. "Are you thinking of something dirty? Only men would use such a deal to take advantage of a woman–"  
  
"No, no, nothing like that," Saihara placated. Saihara had picked up on Chabashira's distaste for men rather quickly upon meeting her. It still surprised him how quickly she would draw her own conclusions and spiral. _Best to stop those ideas early_ , he surmised. "I would never want to hurt you or any of the other girls," he assured.  
  
Chabashira eyed him for a minute before relaxing and leaning away from him. She huffed, "So? What will you ask of Tenko? Tenko hates to be kept in debt after all."  
  
"Well..." he trailed off. This really was a challenge. He could ask for help on homework, but there weren't any classes he was struggling with. He didn't need a tour of the campus either. It had been a few weeks since he had transferred, so he knew the campus pretty well by this point. _Think, Shuuichi, think!_ He scolded himself. _What could Chabashira-san offer me that would satisfy our deal?!_  
  
_...Maybe that could work._  
  
"... Chabashira-san?" he started. "Could you tell me about Aikido?"  
  
"Aikido?" Surprise filled her face.  
  
"I don't know a lot about it actually," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm always looking to educate myself in topics I don't know. Would that be okay? You can tell me all about it and I'd count our deal as satisfied."  
  
Chabashira grinned. "Well, if that's all you need Tenko for, it'll be no problem!"  
  
Saihara smiled back. "Great! So how do you–"  
  
"But talking about it is not going to be enough, Saihara-kun." She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a confident smirk.  
  
Saihara barely had any time to react. With lightning speed she stepped to the side of his desk and reached out. Before he could make sense of the situation, he was experiencing vertigo and looking at the floor.  
  
Chabashira had hoisted him up over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"Augh! Chabashira-san, what–"  
  
"If you want to learn about Aikido, you've got to do it first!" she told him, voice near his ear.  
  
"But I'm sure lifting me up like this isn't necessary!" His voice rose several octaves as she started to run. _Oh my god! She's running! With me on her shoulder!_    
  
"No ifs, ands, or buts, Saihara-kun! Tenko's going to teach you Aikido, whether you like it or not!"  
  
Saihara could only just stop his voice from screeching with panic. "Chabashira-saaaaaaan!"  
  
Students scattered in the hallway could only stare as Saihara bounced on her shoulder. His hands scrambled for purchase, but he was bouncing around too much to grab hold of anything. That, and Chabashira would probably kill him if he accidentally grabbed onto someplace inappropriate. So he let his hands dangle and hoped she hard a firm enough grip to not send him flying.

It felt like years before they reached their destination. She stopped just short of throwing him down on the floor. He landed with a small ‘oof!’ and took in his surroundings. He was in one of the rooms of the student gym, more precisely a martial arts room. The floors were padded, and a “No Shoes Allowed” sign hung on the wall. Saihara slipped off his shoes and set them to the side before looking up at Chabashira.  
  
She had squared her shoulders, crossing her arms in front of her chest and peering down at him. She had somehow taken off her shoes while Saihara was looking around without him noticing.

She pointed a finger at him. “Saihara Shuuichi! It’s time to teach you some beginner techniques.”

Saihara stared. “O...kay?”

Chabashira motioned for him to stand. Once he was on his feet he faced her and awaited her instruction. She held out her left arm to him. “Grab Tenko’s wrist,” she said.

Though a bit confused, Saihara gingerly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Could you describe what we’re doing as we’re doing it? It would help me learn,” Saihara asked.

“Oh! Of course,” she noted. She looked back upon their hands and swung her arm around slowly. Saihara’s grip led his arm along with hers. She motioned to their hands with her other arm and began explaining. “Aikido is a form of self-defense, as most forms of martial arts are. Aikido specifically is about using your opponent’s momentum against them, while also finding ways to prevent both parties from being injured.”

She tugged on her hand again, Saihara’s following with it. She continued, “When someone grabs onto you without your permission, you need to be able to get out of the hold on your own. If you can’t get out of a simple grip, then any punches or kicks you have will become useless. People could still kidnap you kicking and swinging.”

Saihara nodded. 

Chabashira squatted slightly and held her legs apart. “The first thing you want is a strong stance. If your stance is weak your opponent can easily knock you on the ground, which is a very dangerous place to be. Try standing like Tenko.”

Saihara widened his stance. It took several tries and corrections before she deemed it suitable, and then they went back to focusing on the hold. 

“For the next part, whenever you have the range, try hitting Tenko.”

Saihara paled. “Hit you?”

Chabashira scowled. “Not actually!” she hissed. “Just make the motion like you’re going to!”

Saihara sighed. That was more understandable.

She began speaking. “Usually, when you are being attacked, your first thought it to try and move in to attack.” She started to move forward. “The problem is that doing so leaves you very open for attack yourself.”

She moved closer to Saihara and he realized that she was in range. He made a motion of punching her face, which seemed to satisfy her. She tried several times to move in from different directions, meeting Saihara’s timid fist each time. She finally stepped away from him, standing just as she had been before. “The key to Aikido is using your opponent's energy and momentum against them. Remember, Aikido is a form of self-defense. You only attack when you’re attacked first.”

Chabashira motioned to herself. “Try to hit Tenko,” she stated.

Saihara blinked, but decided to follow through. He moved in to her side, trying to land a hit on her. Before he knew it, however, he was in midair and swept off his feet. He landed with a dull thud, brain struggling to process what had just happened.

Chabashira grimaced at his fall. “Saihara-kun, you have to breakfall when you land! How are you going to protect your head otherwise?! 

Saihara felt properly chided, despite being completely clueless as to what he did wrong. “Breakfall?”

“Yes! When you fall, hit the ground with your arms like this,” she demonstrated. Saihara noted that her head, indeed, did not touch the ground.

A short lecture and multiple failed attempts later, Chabashira had successfully taught him how to breakfall. _At least my head will be intact_ , Saihara thought, muscles already sore.

After half an hour of practicing various grappling techniques, Chabashira had taught him how to perform several escape maneuvers successfully (or, well enough). She walked him through how to get out of a single-hand hold, a two-hand hold, and even if someone came in from behind. Saihara learned about the various weaknesses on the human body: the jugular notch, the eyes, the inside of the wrist. It was surprising how easily one could get out of a strong hold, if they knew how. Just taking the thumb and bending it backwards gave more pain that Saihara thought possible. Chabashira taught him how the strength of the grip didn’t matter; the human body had weak spots everywhere. She showed him how the trick to throwing down opponents was to use their weight against them, bringing them down or throwing them over the hip as they attacked.

Saihara completed an exercise and threw Chabashira down on the floor, beaming as his spirits lifted. “I think I’m getting the hang of it!”

She smiled, proud that her pupil was learning. Then her expression sobered and she locked eyes with Saihara. “Saihara, listen to Tenko. The most important thing about Aikido is that it’s meant as a form of defense. More importantly, it’s designed to give you an opportunity to run away.”

Her words surprised him. All the action he’d seen in movies and books had told him staying and fighting was the best method. The tone of her voice told Saihara she was serious about her words. 

Chabashira didn’t break eye contact. “If you see an opportunity to run, take it. It doesn’t matter if your opponent is smaller and weaker than you. Run. Don’t stay in a dangerous place just to prove you’re strong. Your attacker could have advantage of the terrain, a hidden weapon, or backup on the way. Do you understand?” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “These techniques are designed to help you escape. Your safety is the number one priority in these situations.”

Saihara took in her words. He nodded, conviction in his voice. “I understand, Chabashira-san. If I’m in a situation like that, I’ll run away as soon as possible.”

She smiled, relief washing over her face. “Great! Tenko is glad she could teach you.”

Saihara smiled back. With the tone of finality in her voice, he took it as a cue to leave. “Thank you for your lessons, Chabashira-san. I don’t hold you to our debt any longer, so you can relax. I’ll see you around in class–”

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Saihara turned around to see Chabashira with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. He faltered. “Um... back to class?”

“Oh no, Saihara-kun,” she marched up to him. “We’ve barely scraped the surface of Aikido! Tenko still has to teach you what to do when your attacker comes in with a weapon!”

Saihara stopped. “...Eh?”

“C’mon!” She grabbed his wrist, leading him back to the center of the mats. “Tenko is going to show you how to throw down an opponent! You have to know this stuff if you’re going to defend yourself!

Saihara’s feet dragged behind him, exhaustion and dread already fill his veins. His muscles were already beginning to ache. It would be a long while before Chabashira had thrown Saihara on the ground enough to be satisfied.

—

Shirogane Tsumugi liked to think of herself as a kind person. A cunning, deviously intelligent person, but a kind person. The type of person who would help out a classmate in need, regardless of whether they asked. After all, if they weren't going to do anything, might as well do it yourself.  
  
This is why she was currently eyeing (spying for a greater cause, as she liked to call it) a pair of classmates. She watched as they exited the classroom door and walked down the hallway. Shirogane held a notebook up close to her face as a disguise. It was obvious she wasn't reading, but as long as the two in question didn't notice, it didn’t matter. She listened for their voices as they drifted down the hall. Maybe by listening to them she could confirm her theory.

"Ouma-kun, you know how I feel when this happens..."  
  
"It's fine, it's fine! Don't worry, Amami-chan, it was a minor one this time."  
  
Shirogane kept listening intently. Little to their knowledge, she had overheard Amami and Ouma’s conversation in yesterday's class. Amami had teased Ouma about his supposed boyfriend, and then Ouma proceeded to ask the teacher about going to find the new kid, Saihara Shuuichi. If she had heard correctly, that meant that Ouma had a crush, and that crush was Saihara. And if there was a any chance for young love to flourish, Shirogane was absolutely going to get to the bottom of it. She perked her ears as the two walked by.  
  
"Ouma-kun, this happens every time!"  
  
"It's not a big deal."  
  
"I still think you should-"  
  
"Amami-chan, drop it please."  
  
Shirogane watched Amami sigh in defeat. The two switched to a different topic and walked away. She watched their figures until she was out of earshot.  
  
_Dammit, nothing useful_ , she growled.

Obviously straining her ears every time Amami and Ouma were around was proving to be time-consuming and, quite frankly, extremely frustrating. If she was going to help Ouma get his act together, she needed to be certain of the circumstances. Did he really have a crush on the new kid?  
  
She held her hand to her chin in thought.  _If I'm going to solve this riddle, I'm going to have to use other means to unlock information._  
  
_Only one way to find out._  
  
She set her notebook on the windowsill and began typing. Technically phones weren't allowed to be used in school, but class hadn't started yet, so no one cared. Plus she was a model student; if any teacher gave her flack for it she could just bat her eyes and get away with a warning. As she typed out her message, she began to giggle. If she was right about this, which she usually was, then she couldn’t wait to be a part of it. She hit _send_ , and awaited the reply.

—

Amami's morning was, for lack of a better phrase, complete shit. Just from the start he knew it was going to be one of those days where a ball of misery sunk in his stomach and coiled around his heart, suffocating it with regret and heartache. There was no getting around it, no discarding it. Days like these sucked away all the happy feelings from the previous ones and made him forget they ever existed. He wondered when it would change and the cycle would cease.

Bantering with Ouma seemed to help, though.  
  
"I still don't think I should have to pay," Ouma huffed defiantly.  
  
Amami shook his head and smiled. "Oh sure, help your friend have some alone time with their love interest and they have to pay. In what world is that fair, Ouma-kun?"  
  
"In this one, jerkface. The least you could've done is given me a warning."  
  
Amami chuckled, chin in his hand as he leaned on the table. "We both know you wouldn't have gone if I did. Look, I just think as a reward to treating you to some topless Saihara-kun, you should give me some soda."  
  
Ouma's blush burned like neon lights. He scrambled to put his hands over Amami's mouth. "Not so loud, dumbass!"  
  
Amami gracefully dodged his friend's attempts to shut him up forever (a useless struggle, really), and instead grasped Ouma's wrist gently. He peered into his face, red still present on Ouma's cheeks.  
  
Amami wiggled his eyebrows at him and smirked. "Ouma-kun, did you remember something exciting?"  
  
Ouma sputtered as Amami's smirk curled around the edges. "Just know, my dear friend, that you wouldn’t have seen that without my help."  
  
Ouma's eyes betrayed his struggle of deciding whether to accept defeat at the cost of his dignity or die of embarrassment. Whatever Ouma saw in the locker room must have been enticing, for Ouma soon dropped his arms and groaned.  
  
"Fine, you win," he grumbled. "I'll buy you some soda."  
  
Amami's smile was borderline Cheshire. "Lovely doing business with you, Ouma-kun."  
  
Ouma sent him a seething glare and a choice hand gesture as he walked over to the vending machine. It wasn't as intimidating as he probably meant it to be, with his cheeks still adorably pink. Amami laughed. Getting a rise out of his best friend was always the highlight of his day.  
  
A phone buzz withdrew Amami from his thoughts. He peered down to see his screen light up with a new notification.  
  
_(1) New Message from Shirogane Tsumugi_  
  
_Oh great_ , he grimaced. _What does she want?_  
  
He opened up his messages and had to blink several times to be sure he was reading correctly.  
  
_Shirogane: Amami-kun, I need a straight answer from you._  
  
Shirogane Tsumugi, wanting answers from him? That was unexpected. He typed his response, fully intending to be cryptic just for the hell of it.  
  
_Amami: hmm that might be hard_  
  
_Shirogane: No games Amami-kun!!!! I need the truth!!!  \\(｀o´)/_  
  
_Amami: why are you texting me again? Last I recall u only have this # cuz we worked on a group project together_  
  
_Shirogane: yes yes but this is important!!_  
_Shirogane: tell me Amami-kun... does Ouma-kun have a crush? ( ºωº)_  
  
_Amami: I can't tell, I'm sworn by our bro secrecy_  
_Amami: our brocrecy, if you will_  
  
_Shirogane: (҂` ﾛ ´) Don't lie to me garbage man I know things_  
  
_Amami: ouch_  
_Amami: and what things? why is this suddenly of interest to u_  
  
_Shirogane: It's on Saihara-kun, right?? ( ⊙‿⊙) Ouma-kun has a crush on Saihara-kun?_    
  
Amami blinked. There was no way. How did she know? But if she did, that meant only one thing. _Shit_ , his thoughts rumbled. _Now I'm in trouble._  
  
_Amami: what the heck... how did you know_  
_Amami: i mean uh_  
  
_Shirogane: I KNEW IT!!! \\( >∀<)/．☆．。．:*･°_  
  
_Amami: crap_  
_Amami: listen shirogane I know we don't get along v well but if you tell anyone ouma will literally shoot me_  
_Amami: have mercy_  
  
_Shirogane: I'm not gonna tell anyone, I'm gonna help!_  
  
_Amami: wait what_  
_Amami: you... helping? i'm not sure i like what that entails..._  
  
_Shirogane: I'm not going to do anything bad, I'm just gonna use my matchmaking charms (*´艸｀)_  
  
_Amami: oh god_  
_Amami: please shirogane at least tell me what u're going to do_  
  
_Shirogane: If I tell you, will you agree to help me?_  
  
_Amami: ..._  
_Amami: fine._  
_Amami: i s2g tho shirogane if u tell anyone i am LITERALLY a dead man. u have to swear by the code of crush secrecy_  
  
_Shirogane: I'll do anything to see a good love story._  
_Shirogane: I swear_  
_Shirogane: Now let's scheme! ψ(｀∇´)ψ_  
  
Amami laughed silently in disbelief. Was this actually happening? Creating a secret tag team to help his best friend get together with his classmate? It was certainly unconventional.  
  
_Well look at that_ , he marveled. _Love really does bring people together in all sorts of ways._

—

Shirogane giggled with glee as she pocketed her phone and glided into the classroom. She had been right after all! Now that the crush was confirmed, Shirogane had a plan.  
  
She walked up to the teacher with her most polite smile on her face.  
  
"Teacher, is it possible for me to borrow Saihara-kun for home period?"

—

Saihara stumbled through the hallway, trying his best not to groan. Chabashira's exercises had been helpful, but they still left him sore. His footsteps sent jolts up his spine, reminding his back muscles exactly where he had been thrown on the floor. _These are gonna hurt tomorrow_ , Saihara reflected.  
  
He was only a few minutes away from the classroom. Just another corner or so and he would be able to start school as usual.  
  
That was, if someone hadn't been waiting for him beyond the corner.  
  
"Uwah!" he yelped as he almost ran into Shirogane, but quickly relaxed upon seeing who it was. “Sorry Shirogane-san, I didn't see you there."  
  
Shirogane beamed at the sight of him. "Don't worry Saihara-kun! You were just the person I was looking for!"  
  
Saihara blinked in confusion. "I was?"  
  
"Yes! Now come with me, I need your help!" She pulled on his arm until she was practically dragging him through the hall.  
  
Saihara sputtered, "W-wait, Shirogane-san! What do you need my help for?"  
  
"The school festival, silly! We need to prepare for it now!"  
  
"In September?" he muttered weakly.  
  
"Yes, in September! I'm in charge of our class's participation in the festival and I need you specifically to help me!"

 _Why me?_ he thought with dread. The duo entered a different classroom than their usual one, one filled with boxes and various supplies scattered all over. There were sheets over what looked like basic sewing mannequins, and a small area where poles held up curtains. _A changing room?_ Saihara wondered.

“Saihara-kun, welcome to the festival-planning room!” she proclaimed, letting go of his hand to rearrange some supplies nearby. “I apologize for the mess, it’s more of a storage room than a classroom at this point.”

Saihara took a second to catch his breath from being dragged through the halls. When it evened out, he walked closer to her. “Shirogane-san, please tell me what’s going on. Why do you specifically need my help for this? I’m new around here, and even at my old school we didn’t really do any school festivities.” 

She sent him a dry look over her shoulder. “Whatever school you were in before was filled with uncivilized brutes.”

Well. She was right about that one. 

“Seriously, Shirogane-san, I have no experience with this!”

 “Well, now’s a good time to learn! And to answer your question of ‘why you’...” She trailed off. She started digging into a box, rustling its contents until she seemed to find what she was looking for. She turned around to face him again. Her hands held a huge bundle of clothes, which she unceremoniously pushed into his hands. “You’re going to try these on! These are some of the festival costumes from the over the years. Since most of them are mine, I need you as my model while I try to stitch together a new one for this year!”

Saihara was flabbergasted. “What? Why do you need a model? And wouldn’t some of the other girls be more... suited to try on your clothes?” The more she explained to him, the less sense it made.

She seemed to have retrieved the item she was looking for from the depths of the box and walked away from it. She took a sewing mannequin and brought it to the center of the room, measuring tape in her hand. “Nope, no can do Saihara-kun. I have to create new costumes for this year, and the only way I can create something original is if I get inspiration from past works. For me, that means seeing the last festival costumes. And I need a model because there are many differences from seeing clothes flat as opposed to on the person itself.”

As she started laying out some fabric, Saihara noticed that some of it was already stitched together. _She’s been working on it at home_ , he realized.

Shirogane started to dress the mannequin with her homemade piece, revealing itself to be what looked like a butler suit in progress. Saihara suddenly understood what she had meant about seeing clothes on a figure–the entire dynamic of the material changed, black fabric shining across the front and tailcoats falling down on the floor. They were too long, but they were probably some of the aspects she was trying to change with the costume.

She fiddled with the sleeves. “I really wanted a person as a model instead of a mannequin since I have a lot of costumes to look through, and putting them on and taking them off a mannequin would take a lot of time,” she spoke absentmindedly as she stuck some pins in the cloth. “And none of the other girls–or boys, for that matter–will work since you’re the closest to my size.”

Her statement threw him for a loop. “Your.... size?” he asked feebly.

“Yes! Don’t doubt me, Saihara-kun.” She gave him a determined glare, fierce but warm around the edges. “I have a tailor’s eyes, and our measurements match!”

“I’ve never heard the phrase ‘tailor’s eyes’ before,” he argued. “And I find it hard to believe our... measurements... are the same. Wouldn’t someone like Akamatsu-san work? Harukawa-san? Iruma-san?”

Shirogane had already started walking around him and measuring him, wrapping the plastic tape around his chest. He squeaked when she looped the tape around his waist and on his hips. She spoke while moving around him. “Akamatsu-san is... how should I put it... more busty than we are.”

Saihara’s face burned. “I don’t even have a bust,” he choked out.

Shirogane continued, unfazed. “Harukawa-san is as small as a twig, Iruma-san has too much curve, Chabashira-san's legs are too long, Angie-san and Yumeno-san too short, I could go on and on! And all the boys are either too broad or too small! Both Hoshi-kun and Ouma-kun are super short!”

Saihara agreed. Compared to his past school where all the guys in his class were taller than him, it was a pleasant surprise to see classmates like Ouma and Hoshi that were shorter than him. Even Kiibo was shorter, and it gave Saihara comfort.

Saihara’s thoughts drifted as he recalled how Ouma was just the right size to tilt his head up when talking to him. His dark eyes always seemed to sparkle and glow when speaking to Saihara. When Ouma had leaned above him in the nurse’s infirmary, Ouma’s eyes were no longer the dark stones he had remembered, but the murky, violet plasma of deep space. Saihara was positive it had been a trick of the light, but in the midst of his disorientation, he had wanted to stare into them for hours.

“Aha!”

Saihara jolted back from his thoughts.

Shirogane had finished with measuring his inseam, looking at him with a triumphant look on her face. “We are almost the exact same size all around! You should fit in these costumes quite well.”

He looked down at the pile of clothes, begrudgingly accepted his lot in life. He paled when he saw some of the outfits. “Shirogane-san, most of these are girls’ outfits!”

“Yes?” She turned over to look at him. “I did say most of them were mine.”

Saihara struggled to remain composed as memories began resurfacing. _What would my last school have done to see me in these_ , he thought despairingly, panic starting to sink in. _What will this school do if they see me in these? Crap, why hadn’t I made this connection before?!_

She studied his expression for a moment, concern washing over her face. “Does that make you uncomfortable, Saihara-kun? I apologize, I didn’t realize that might affect you. I was so caught up in how perfect of a model you’d be, I guess I didn’t... 

Saihara into her eyes as she trailed off. She genuinely seemed contrite. He started threading a hand nervously through his hair. “It’s just... yeah. Wearing women’s clothes makes me a little uncomfortable.” 

Saihara saw her expression fall, only to be quickly masked with an encouraging expression. She smiled at him gently as she walked up to him. “That’s okay, Saihara-kun. I won’t force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” She started reaching for the clothes in his hands.

Saihara debated. The thought of dressing in girls’ clothes brought out a fear he thought he’d buried on his first day at the academy. On the other hand, Shirogane genuinely seemed to need the help. Most importantly, she wasn’t making fun of him. She didn’t even seem bothered by the idea of a boy trying on her clothes at all. There was no one here who would ridicule him. There was no one here who would hurl insults at him or bully him.

Saihara let out a shaky breath. _Overcoming fear is the only way to grow... right?_

He steeled his nerves before speaking. “No I... I want to help you.”

Shirogane stopped. Her eyes widened.

Saihara’s hands started threading more rapidly through his hair. “I just... was made fun of for looking like a girl in my last school.”

That was downplaying it. It had been a constant whenever his tormentors confronted him. Always about looking _like a girl_ , about being _weak_ , about living a pathetic, hopeless life. It had even gotten so bad he’d opened his locker one day to find a cheap, scanty dress crudely stuffed inside it. His books had been ruined with sharpie marks and foul words, but he’d taken them and ran all the same. The tears stung his eyes as he’d fled the school that day.

He’d done his best to keep his head low and mind his own business. Why had that backfired so spectacularly?

“Saihara-kun.”

He looked up at Shirogane. Her face was resolute, eyes hardened in distant anger. She was enraged, but her wrath was not directed at him. Saihara found himself realizing that he should strive to never cross her. Anyone who looked this outraged while keeping their face calm was someone to be feared. Saihara broke out of his thoughts when he saw Shirogane in front of him. She set her hands on top of the clothes she had been reaching for before. “Let me repeat myself. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Her tone was more serious than he had been expecting. Was his current state of mind that transparent on his face? Saihara shrunk at the thought.

Her eyes softened, telling him to relax. She reached out and touched his shoulder, fingers resting warmly on his uniform. “Dressing how you want to and acknowledging what you’re not comfortable with is not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength.”

Something in Saihara’s chest stuttered. The fear he’d been using as a defensive shield around his heart had slowly started to dismantle. 

Shirogane looked off to the side and removed her hand from his shoulder, gripping it around her arm instead. “I... don’t know what you’ve gone through, but... I sort of understand.” Her eyes took on a somber shade. “I wasn’t always accepted by my peers either. You can say I’ve... been in a bad place before.”

She tightened her grip around one of her arms. Saihara had never seen–nor had he ever expected to see–Shirogane so meek and exposed.

 _I really don’t know that much about my classmates_ , he realized.

Shirogane quickly turned back to him and smiled. “But this isn’t about me! This is about you.” She placed her hands back on the bundle of clothes again, still in his arms. “If you don’t want to wear these, I won’t make you. You deserve respect. And if anyone denies you that respect,” her eyes turned razor sharp. “Kill them.”

Saihara squawked. “Shirogane-san!”

Shirogane started laughing. It rang in his ears like a bell, despite the shock still coursing through his system from her words. “Relax, Saihara-kun! I was kidding.” 

Saihara let go of so much tension at that that he almost felt like he’d crumble on the ground if he didn’t have a bundle of clothes still in his hands. He wanted to make sure they didn’t get dirty. Then his thoughts halted. _Well, it’s not like the clothes weren’t super clean anyway_ , he surmised. _How clean even are these clothes? They’ve been sitting in a dusty classroom for a year. Plus they were worn by... er, exactly how many people?_

“Well?” Shirogane looked back over to him. “What do you say, Saihara-kun? Are you up to try on some clothes for me?”

Saihara felt calmed by her words, as odd as they had been. He knew he was safe here. Shirogane wouldn’t subject him to the same treatment as his classmates had. He could relax.

He could trust her.

Saihara smiled genuinely in her direction. “Yes, Shirogane-san. I’ll try on some clothes for you.”

He was caught off-guard when Shirogane immediately covered her mouth with her hands and let out a high-pitched squeal. “What’s wrong?” 

Shirogane closed her eyes briefly, as if trying to hold back tears. “Ah, forgive me, Saihara-kun... your smile was so beautiful! So confident! So open!” She wiped away her nonexistent tears and smiled back at him, confidence exuding from her stance. “That’s it, I’ve decided Saihara-kun!” She pointed at him, though not patronizingly. “I’m going to make you a festival outfit, and I’ll make it something you can feel confident in! The whole world needs to see that smile, and I’m going to make you something so brilliant you’ll be wearing it all day!”

Saihara felt his cheeks warm, a giggly feeling filling his stomach. “Thank you, Shirogane-san.” Some of the embarrassment he’d forgotten came back as he realized what that meant. “Er, you’d want me to participate in the festival?”

“Of course!” She turned from him, starting to rifle through the box again for supplies. “You’re officially part of this class now! You’re gonna be a part of that festival if I have to drag you into it!”

Saihara laughed, far more at ease than he had been even five minutes ago. “Thank you.” 

“Of course!” she beamed at him. “Now go! Go start trying things on! Leave your underwear on, and let me know if you need any help.”

Saihara’s eyes widened. At his stare, Shirogane shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t seen before Saihara-kun. Do you think all my models dress themselves?”

Saihara let out a shaky laugh. “I guess not? What kind of costumes are so complex that you need to have help to get them on, though?”

Shirogane only beamed at him more, and rummaged through the bin again. Saihara sighed and let it go, walking over to the makeshift dressing... room... curtain... thing. He set the bundle of clothes on the stool in the room and started to take off his uniform.

Saihara had a statement on his tongue. He took several minutes debating whether he should say it, before deciding that he’d regret it if he didn’t do so. “Shirogane-san. Are you... doing better now?”

“Yes!” she responded, voice much lighter than he had been expecting. “Don’t worry about me, Saihara-kun, I’ve been doing wonderfully ever since coming here. Saishuu Academy places a lot of importance around acceptance and letting students explore their talents. Thanks to that I’ve been able to try new hobbies without ridicule. In fact, I think it’s even helped make me a few friends!”

Her voice was cheerful and earnest. She really did love this school. Saihara heard fabric rustling and she continued, “I’ve been meeting new people and going to therapy on a regular basis. I’m much better than I’d ever thought I’d be.”

Saihara smiled to himself. It was nice to hear someone else recovering from a bad place. It gave him hope for himself that he could eventually think about his bullies and his mother without feeling fear and pain in his heart. 

He picked up the first costume on top of the heap, and almost dropped it in surprise. The outfit was a sailor fuku. It might have passed as a normal uniform, had it not been for the vibrant colors and the protrudent bow on the chest. With how it looked, Saihara deduced it was probably meant to look like something from an anime.

He was about to be embarrassed again, but then he noticed the stitching of the outfit. The seams were pressed neatly and sewed on the inside, the pleats of the skirt firmly in line and even. The bow was tied professionally and the colors complimented each other. From the little Saihara knew about clothing, he found that even the fabric was smooth to the touch but sturdy, prime for a school uniform. This is exactly the kind of clothing he’d expect to see in stores, and here it was, made by a classmate. A classmate, someone as young as him!

“You’re amazing, Shirogane-san,” Saihara thought aloud. “I didn’t even know you could sew costumes as intricate as these, yet here you’ve been making them for the past few years.”

Shirogane’s voice was gentle as she responded, “Thank you, Saihara-kun. Your words mean a lot to me.”

Saihara’s heart warmed. He began dressing into one outfit when he heard Shirogane ask from behind the curtain, “By the way, Saihara-kun, would you mind if my assistant comes in as well?”

 — 

Ouma was sulking. Homeroom was as boring as ever, even with Akamatsu going through all the week’s announcements and reminders about the school festival. _It's two months away!_ he groused. Ouma really did enjoy dressing in costumes and helping run a cafe, but the more planning was involved, the less he wanted to be a part of it. _It’s no fun if we think about it so much in advance. By the time it actually happens, it won’t be fun and exciting anymore. It’ll just boring, like every other school event_ , he frowned as his thoughts turned sour.

 _Saihara-chan isn’t even here, either_.

Saihara hadn’t even been to the gym, apparently, if what Amami was telling him was true. Which, knowing how mischievous Amami was, maybe it wasn’t. Ouma sighed. _No, he didn’t seem like he was lying_ , he thought as he dropped his suspicions. _I can’t just doubt Amami-chan every time something goes wrong._

Ouma tried not to feel upset that Saihara was missing. _It’s just one period_ , he scolded himself. S _aihara doesn’t need to be here anyway. It’s not like we’re friends or anything._

That one hurt. It hurt even more when he realized it was true. They hadn’t really interacted much beyond their chance encounters, most of which had been Ouma deliberately seeking out Saihara. As of yet, Ouma couldn’t recall a time Saihara had come to him. Well, there was that one time with the hat, but even that had been Ouma forcing him to come. He never came willingly.

Ouma resigned struggling with his thoughts. They were true, but it didn’t mean anything. _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he reminded himself. _Saihara-chan has only been here for a month. He probably doesn’t feel comfortable around anyone yet._

His mind traitorously supplied him with images of all the times he’d seen Saihara smiling around the others. Momota. Kiibo. Akamatsu.

 _Aaaaaaahhh. This sucks_ , he thought. Then he frowned even more. _I’m pathetic._

Ouma would’ve continued ignoring the classroom had not his phone beeped. It was quiet enough that no one noticed, but he grabbed it all the same. He knew Akamatsu wouldn’t call him out on it–there had been far too many times when she had tried and all that had accomplished was wasted class time. Ouma was pretty sure she still gave him the stink eye for still doing it though. 

Ouma opened his notifications and saw a text from a classmate who was also, suspiciously, not in class.

_Shirogane: Ouma-kun! Can you help me with something for a minute? ⊂(•‿•)つ_

Ouma restrained himself from groaning out loud. This day was already bad enough without classmates asking him for favors.

_Ouma: Shirogane-chan, do I have to?_

_Shirogane: Pleeeeeeaaasseeee, Ouma-kuuuuunnnnnnn_   
_Shirogane: I know you hate going out of your way to do things but pleeeeaaasseeeee (T□T)_

_Ouma: no way, I don’t want to_

_Shirogane: Please please please please!! I promise it’ll be worth it!!_

_Ouma: uughhhhh_   
_Ouma: fine, what is it shirogane-chan?_

_Shirogane: I’m making costumes for the festival and I need someone to help me sort through fabric! ٩(●∀●)۶ I need an assistant!_

_Ouma: Shirogane-chan, that just doesn’t sound exciting at all_

_Shirogane: Ouma-kun you get your puny butt down here or so help me I’ll make you wear the most hideous outfit known to man at the festival_

Ouma shuddered. He recalled last year when Shirogane had picked up a fabric with seizure-pink and orange sequins all over it and called it “exquisite.” Whatever “hideous” meant in Shirogane’s dictionary had to be worth fearing.

 _Ouma: Okay fine I’ll go!_  
_Ouma: With how awful your taste is, I’m surprised your entire wardrobe hasn’t been named “The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Wardrobe in the History of Mankind”_

_Shirogane: Ouma-kun, if you keep testing my patience I might just not let you come and help me! (ಠ ∩ಠ)_

_Ouma: Wow, thanks Shirogane-chan! Mission accomplished!_

_Shirogane: OUMA-KUN_  
_Shirogane: STUFF YOUR SASS AND GET OVER HERE, NOW_

_Ouma: Or what?_

_Shirogane: Oh, I think you’d very much want to see what’s over here ( `艸´)_

_Ouma: siiiiigggghhhh_  
_Ouma: Fine, fine, Shirogane-chan, I’m on my way over._

_Shirogane: YESSSS!!!!! \\( ✧∀✧)/_

Ouma groaned and pocketed his phone. He passed by Akamatsu and gave her a “Sorry, Shirogane-chan needs my help!” before exiting the classroom. 

 _This better be worth it,_ he thought as he walked down the halls.

—

The gym might have been close to the festival preparation room, but homeroom was not. After turning yet another corner, Ouma finally found the room number Shirogane sent him. The door was slightly open already, so he stepped inside. 

The classroom looked as dusty and cluttered as he remembered. The makeshift dressing room curtains were closed, and several boxes had been opened. Additionally, there was a sewing mannequin upright and uncloaked, already wearing the makings of a new costume. _Shirogane-chan’s new project, huh?_ he wondered.

He was about to shout out for Shirogane when he heard rustling behind the curtain. Before he could speak the curtain was drawing back, revealing someone dressed in a rather frilly maid costume.

“Shirogane-san, are you there? I’ve put on another outf–”

Saihara. Saihara was wearing the frilly maid costume.

Saihara’s eyes were as wide as saucers when he saw Ouma. Ouma could only stare.

Ouma tried to remember anything: what he was doing there, how to speak, what his _name_ was, but the more he tried to remember the less he could recall. 

The moment ended as Saihara loudly squeaked and closed the curtains in a rush.

Ouma let go of a breath he’d been holding in. Whatever he had expected to see when he walked in there, it certainly hadn’t been _that_. With Saihara out of direct line of sight, Ouma became more aware of the situation, including the rising warmth to his cheeks. His pulse had stopped and then sped up, and was now beating rapidly in his veins.

With a jolt Ouma realized that Saihara was still in the room. He walked carefully over to the makeshift dressing-room, and gazed at the curtain barrier. He subtly cleared his throat before calling out, “Saihara-chan? Are you in there?” 

The room was silent, bereft of a response. Ouma waited patiently before asking again. “Saihara-chan? You are in there, right?”

A gasp sounded. Ouma listened carefully. He heard breaths, short and frenzied from behind the curtain. All at once Ouma felt ice fill his veins. “Saihara-chan? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you, Shirogane-chan called me over to help with something.”

Ouma strained his ears and heard the breaths slow, evening out to a steady pace. Ouma pondered whether to speak again when he heard a voice.

“Ouma...kun?”

Ouma sighed in relief. “So it is you in there. I wondered where you were since you weren’t in homeroom this morning.” Ouma chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, at least this way you didn’t have to listen to Akamatsu-chan talk on and on about the day’s announcements.”

He heard a soft laugh before Saihara spoke. “Is that so? I had been with Chabashira-san after I came to school, and then I was dragged away by Shirogane-san...”

Ouma felt his bitter feelings from the morning dissipate. Saihara wasn’t trying to avoid him, nor was he absent due to an accident. Ouma could breathe a lot easier now. He giggled, lungs lighter than they had been before. “Honestly, do you even attend class at all Saihara-chan? From how many times you’ve skipped out on classes within your first month, I’d say you’re well on your way to becoming the class delinquent!”

He heard Saihara let out a squawk before he retorted, “I attend class! I make sure to get the notes for all the classes I skip too!” Saihara huffed from behind the dressing-room curtain. “At least, I never skipped class at my old school...”

Ouma frowned. The tone of Saihara’s voice was far more sad and withdrawn than before. _That’s no good_ , Ouma thought. _Saihara-chan shouldn’t be sad. He looks much better when he’s smiling._

Ouma became determined to dispel all sorrow from Saihara’s tone. “Don’t worry, I was lying. I know my beloved Saihara-chan is a good student at heart.”

Saihara seemed to ease at that. “Thank you, Ouma-kun,” he said earnestly.

Ouma beamed despite how Saihara couldn’t see it. “No problem.”

The conversation lulled. It was a minute or so before Ouma remembered the state he had seen Saihara in before they started conversing. His face threatened to catch fire again, but he willed it away. Now was not the time to get embarrassed.

“By the way Saihara-chan... what are you doing in here?”

“Ah, about that... Shirogane-san made me her model. She said she needed to see costumes on somebody in order to get inspiration for her new costumes.”

Ouma’s eyes narrowed. In all the times he’d helped Shirogane out with the school festival, he’d never heard of that particular quirk of hers. _Something smells fishy_ , he decided. _This is beginning to look a lot like something Amami-chan would set up..._

He shook his head. He could suss out Amami and Shirogane later. Right now he had more important things to focus on, like letting Saihara feel more comfortable around him.

“So that’s why you’re wearing a dress?”

Ouma winced at his words. _Yikes_. _That sounded way worse than I wanted it to_. He hastily added, “Not that there’s anything bad about you in a dress!”

He heard Saihara sigh from inside the dressing room. “I figured it looked pretty bad.” _No!_ Ouma’s thoughts screamed. “Shirogane-san wanted me to try on all these outfits, but I guess that means even ones like these...”

Ouma sensed Saihara’s discomfort. He remembered how he felt earlier, how he and Saihara weren’t even close enough to be friends. Friends would feel comfortable with stuff like this... right?

Ouma hardened his resolve. Regardless of whether this crush of his went anywhere, he wanted to be friends with Saihara. He wanted Saihara to trust him. And here was an opportunity, waiting right in front of him. So he shoved his fear aside and said, “Can you show me?”

Saihara was silent.

Ouma wanted desperately to reel back, take back his words and let Saihara stay hidden in the dressing room. Fear coursed through him as he thought of all sorts of possibilities for what Saihara’s silence meant. _Oh god, does he think that’s disgusting that I would want to see him like this? I’m not trying to be–what if he doesn’t want to because he doesn’t want to be friends at all, I mean I’d be sad but I guess that’s his decision? Oh no what if he figured out I have a crush on him? No, that’s stupid, there’s no way, you can deny it, you’re perfect at lying there’s no way–_

Ouma’s rapid bullet thoughts were stopped by the sound of a curtain being pulled. Ouma looked up from the ground to see Saihara, a few feet in front of him, dressed in all his lacy, frilly, maid costume glory. His cheeks were red and he wasn’t looking at Ouma, but his stance was confident, back straight and legs placed evenly apart. Saihara’s hand was still holding the curtain, and he might have even been trembling from the looks of it, but there he was, dressed in front of Ouma in a humiliating costume.

Ouma blinked and stared at him. Saihara’s face grew more and more red the longer Ouma stared, and his expression indicated he wanted to bolt. The room hung in a tense balance, one wrong word and the whole moment would crash and burn.

Ouma opened his mouth to say something when they heard a squeal. Both their heads whipped to the doorway to see Shirogane, hands cradling her cheeks and dreamy look on her face. Her voice was high and squeaky, though some might have called it adoring. “Saihara-kun! You look so _darling_!”

Saihara slouched slightly as he acknowledged the other figure in the room. “T-Thanks, Shirogane-san... did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yep!” She triumphantly held a bag of sewing needles between her fingers and grinned. “Now nothing’s stopping me from creating the perfect outfit!”

Ouma felt a bittersweet relief at Shirogane’s presence. She may not have been the distraction he wanted, but perhaps one that he needed. The situation had been far too intense, both boys too nervous to feel relaxed. At least now with her around they wouldn’t be so stiff. He overlooked how... _convenient_ her arrival had been. 

Shirogane turned to Ouma and grinned, a foxy smile playing on her lips. “Now, Ouma-kun, take that basket of fabric over there and bring it over.”

Ouma blinked. “Hmm?”

He glanced at Saihara and saw his eyes flood with understanding. “Oh, is Ouma-kun the assistant you mentioned?”

 _Assistant?_ Ouma turned back to Shirogane, who was giving him the most subtle ‘Play along!’ look she could manage. Her smile grew as she replied, “Why yes! Ouma-kun is going to help us with costume designing!”

The extent of the situation hit Ouma like a brick to the chest, but he knew how to improvise. “Yep! Shirogane-chan and I always make costumes together! It’s super fun!”

Saihara seemed surprised. “What do you do to help, Ouma-kun?”

“Ouma-kun used to try on my outfits for me,” Shirogane responded quickly at Ouma’s slight pause. “But since you’re a much better model, Saihara-kun, he’ll just assist me instead today!”

Ouma pouted. “I’m a good model! It’s not my fault I can’t compete with Saihara-chan.”

Saihara’s cheeks were dusted with pink and he smiled shyly, looking away. Ouma watched with awe. _This_ , he thought, _this is the Saihara-chan I want to see._

“C’mon, Saihara-kun, try on the next outfit!” Shirogane spoke as she ushered him into the dressing room.

“Alright, alright...”

Once the curtains were closed Shirogane walked back over to her sewing mannequin. She turned to Ouma as an afterthought. “You know, I wasn’t kidding about the fabric basket.”

His eye twitched. Ouma’s smile remained plastered to his face even as he walked over to grab the basket. He was going to have so many questions when this was over.

—

Saihara pulled the fabric over his head. Ouma and Shirogane had been dressing him in different–and outrageous–outfits for the past hour. Had it been an hour? It sure felt like one.

He had been mortified when Ouma had shown up at first. All he could think of were the harsh teases of his classmates and how much Ouma loved to tease. _This is it_ , he had thought, breaths coming in shallow as he fought the onset of a panic attack. _It’s going to happen all over again and I fell for it. He’s going to torment me and I’ll be all my fault because I decided to trust somebody._

He was surprised, however, when Ouma did the exact opposite.

Instead of teases and jabs, Ouma used calming words and waited patiently for Saihara and let him step out on his own terms. He couldn’t begin to describe the comfort Ouma’s actions brought him. His breathing had slowed and his panic had settled. If he had doubts about trusting Ouma before, all of them had been dropped by his actions. Saihara was once again reminded that Ouma was not who he first thought he was. Instead of another bully, Ouma was a friend–an eager and understanding companion.

Saihara smiled to himself as he slipped on another outfit. He could overhear Shirogane and Ouma bickering over something or other outside the dressing room.

“No, we can’t make the entire outfit out of purple silk. Do you know how much silk costs?!”

“So? We have a budget, and the school’s loaded, isn’t it?”

“Silk’s not made for this kind of outfit! You have to have a stronger fabric underneath or else it won’t have any form!”

“Okay, so we dress in thicker fabric, then we wear silk on top of that?”

Saihara sighed as he put on jacket to his costume. He looked at himself in the mirror. It was one of the costumes that was masculine in appearance. Dark fabric covered his arms and legs, white lines creating a subtle pattern across them. His jacket was form-fitting, with a turtleneck-like collar to it. The breast pocket had an emblem he didn’t recognize, but it brought dignity and honor to the outfit all the same. The jacket had a set of polished silver buttons that ran down his torso, securing the fabric around his chest. The pants fit him nicely, and the top made his chest look thin but undoubtedly male.

Despite all of Shirogane’s cooing and awing over him, this was the first outfit Saihara had tried on that genuinely made him feel confident and comfortable. He looked over himself several times, trying to see if his usual self-doubt would make an appearance. Surprisingly, it didn’t. He smiled to himself as he took in his form. 

 _I look... good,_ he thought with pride.

He pulled back the curtains and stepped out. He was greeted to the site of Ouma sitting on one of the unused desks in the classroom, laughing at something Shirogane had said. Ouma smiled and looked Saihara’s way, only to stop when he caught sight of him. Saihara watched as Ouma’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open slightly.

Saihara froze, confidence rapidly slipping. With all the girlish costumes before, Ouma had always complimented him, throwing infectious smiles his way. He’d even made several comments about how ‘cute’ Saihara was. 

_“Saihara-chan, you look all dressed up for a dance!”_

_“Wow, Saihara-chan, did you know you look absolutely stunning in that?”_

_“Saihara-chan, you’re so so so cute!”_

That last comment had gotten Saihara more flustered than he thought it would.  

Ouma was doing none of that now. He only stared at Saihara, all traces of merriment gone. Saihara could feel the tendrils of fear start to sink in.  _What’s different about this outfit?_ Saihara wondered worriedly. _Is it the colors? ...Is it me?_

His attention was diverted to Shirogane when she came over. “Saihara-kun!” she sighed dreamily, a designer reverent of their own work. “This is your best outfit yet!”

He nodded to her and glanced down at his costume, desperate to find a conversation topic. Anything to keep her talking, if only to keep his attention off of Ouma’s unnervingly blank stare. “...I’ve been meaning to ask you, Shirogane-san,” he fumbled over his words, “What are these costumes based on? Are they, uh, from a theme or show?”

“Oh, I’m _so_ glad you asked!” Shirogane’s eyes sparkled like sequins. “Usually the school festivals have a theme for each classroom! Sometimes we do period clothing, and other times we do cosplay like the outfit you’re wearing!” She gestured to his clothes. “This one is from a popular video game where kids are locked in a school and a bear orders them to kill each other.”

Saihara raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A bear?”

 “A bear!” Shirogane chirped. "It's a murder mystery game!"

Saihara frowned. “That... sounds horrible.”

“It is!” Shirogane exclaimed, launching into dramatics. “The whole time they’re doubting their friends and trying to find out who killed who, they also have to figure out the mastermind and how to beat the system! It's like everything is working against them,” at this she placed a hand on her chest and sighed dramatically, “The battle between hope and despair is truly an excellent literary theme.”

Saihara supposed there was more to the story there, but he let it slide. He looked over his attire. “So, is this outfit cosplay of a character from the story then?”

“Yep! He was the detective of the group. Honestly, Saihara-kun,” she giggled. “I think you look just like him!”

Saihara wasn’t sure to take it as a compliment or not. His gaze slid back over to Ouma. Ouma’s eyes were still wide in shock, his mouth still slightly parted open. He noticed, however, that in the time he was talking to Shirogane, a light dusting of cherry red had adorned Ouma’s cheeks.

Saihara flushed under his gaze. _Shit that’s cute_ , Saihara thought. He held Ouma’s gaze as his own cheeks began to turn a deeper pink. Saihara shyly curled one of his fingers around a strand of hair, struggling to look Ouma in the eye. “How... how do I look, Ouma-kun?”

Ouma seemed to snap out of his frozen state at that. Still seated on the unused desk, Ouma leaned towards Saihara and blurted, “ _You’re really pretty!_ ”

Saihara choked on his own spit as Ouma backpedaled, hands in the air waving frantically in front of him. “I-I mean, haha, you do! You look, um, really handsome! It-It looks really good on you! Really!!” 

Saihara could feel the heat coming off of his face in waves and Ouma didn’t seem to be faring any better. He was blushing so much it looked like someone had dipped his face in red paint. Saihara’s breath came out faint, but firm. “Thank you...”

Saihara could see Ouma gain some composure at his response. “Of course! You look super dashing and handsome, Saihara-chan!” He looked away for a fraction of a second before adding, “In fact, I’m positive anyone would be jealous over who you’re dating!”

“I, uh, I’m not dating anyone,” he laughed awkardly.

Saihara caught how Ouma’s eyes widened minutely, but couldn’t ponder on it as Shirogane stepped in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Well! As much as I think Saihara is very deserving of a romantic partner, we have things to do! And more importantly, we have a class to get to.”

Saihara glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, homeroom’s finishing up? We should go.”

“Yes, you should! Here Saihara-kun,” she shoved his uniform in his arms as she pushed him back into the dressing room. “Go change into your uniform and scurry on down to class. You can’t be late after all the classes you’ve skipped!”

Saihara almost pouted as he rebutted, “I, I haven’t been skipping...!” He frowned when Ouma started snickering.

When he stepped out of the dressing room Ouma was waiting in front of the door. “Shall we go, Prince Charming?”

Saihara shook his head as he walked closer. “Ouma-kun, I only wore one prince outfit today and it was horrible. I never want to wear that much poofy fabric again.”

Ouma laughed, lighthearted and bubbly. Saihara admired the twinkle in his eyes before turning to Shirogane. “Are you coming, Shirogane-san?”

“Oh, no, don’t wait up for me!” She spoke, placing piles of clothes in various boxes and across the desks. “I still have things to wrap up in here! You two should go ahead." 

Saihara’s concern bled through his voice. “Shirogane-san, it’s not right that we should just go while you have stuff to clean up. We were here with you the whole time and–”

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope!” she reiterated. “I will not have my model seeing my mess! Now go before I start using my sewing needles to physically poke you out of here.”

Saihara’s eyes widened as Ouma chuckled nervously. “She’s not kidding, Saihara-chan, she’s done it to me plenty of times. We should go to class.”

“Alright...”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Shirogane appeased. “The teachers here know what kind of commitment I have to the school festival; they’ll understand. Now go!” She held up a needle menacingly, eyes turning dark, “Before I have to take _drastic_ measures.”

Both boys yelped and scrambled away. They could hear Shirogane’s laughter from far away.

It wasn’t until they were several paces from the classroom that Saihara thought he could breathe easier. He glanced at Ouma, who was panting just as much as he was. “I never thought she could look so frightening," he told Ouma. "I think I’ll have nightmares about it for months.”

“Tell me about it,” Ouma whined. “And here I thought she’d go easy on us...”

Saihara laughed quietly, his steps slowing down to a relaxed pace. Ouma kept up easily, despite the difference in height. _Must have a lot of energy,_ Saihara mused. Ouma turned his face to Saihara’s. He smiled and asked, “What’cha thinking about?”

Saihara smiled back. “Nothing really...” he answered, before remembering something. “Actually, Ouma-kun, I was thinking. I wanted to thank you for today.” At Ouma’s confused expression, Saihara elaborated. “I guess it was obvious how I wasn’t really... comfortable in most of those outfits. You could have made fun of me for wearing them, but you didn’t. You didn’t, and that meant a lot to me.” Saihara gave a heartfelt smile, hoping his honesty would shine through. “Thank you, Ouma-kun. I’m glad I have you as a friend.”

Ouma stared at Saihara, star-struck look on his face and stars in his eyes, before grinning warmly at him. “It was nothing, Saihara-chan. I’m really glad I’m friends with you.”

Saihara beamed back at him, warmth filling his heart.

Ouma’s eyes gleamed excitedly before grabbing his hand. “C’mon Saihara-chan, we can’t be late for class!” he called before tugging Saihara along.

Saihara almost giggled at the action. “Alright, lead the way, Ouma-kun.”

The two held hands as they raced to class, laughter filling the hallway with their footsteps.

—

Shirogane couldn’t stop giggling as she saw the two hurry off to class. Holding hands! She opened her phone to let a specific classmate know. This was news that needed to be shared immediately. 

_Shirogane: They ran down the hallway!!! Holding hands!!!! \\(☆ワ☆)/_

_Amami: wow, that was fast. what kind of magic did u use?  
Amami: whatever u did, we’re gonna need more of it._

Shirogane grinned, gears already turning in her head at the thought. It felt so nice to be right.

_Shirogane: Lovely to have you on the team, fellow conspirator ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )_

_Amami: never call me your fellow conspirator again._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many characters in this game speak in the third person. Do they do this just to make me suffer.
> 
> Notes:  
> \- Aikido: I have not taken Aikido, but I have taken martial arts for seven years so I pulled knowledge about fighting from that and researching Aikido. And yes, in most martial arts, the idea is to RUN AWAY when you have a chance. Follow Tenko's words, be a good pupil. I used this video for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtD1Hlp1ow4  
> \- School festivals: Japanese school festivals are in November, and they are about celebrating the achievements of the students in the school. Most classes will host cafes during the festival, and costumes are used for themes. I used this for reference: https://fastjapan.com/en/p112148  
> \- Saihara's measurements: Okay... no lie... I had this idea from the start of the chapter, but if u actually look on the wikis for Saihara and Shirogane's measurements... they are almost exactly the same. It's unbelievable how much the stars aligned for this moment.  
> \- Shirogane's past: The fic won't get too much into it, but in this au she's been through a lot. Probably has been to the hospital a few times. I didn't put in anything graphic so I didn't mention it in the warnings, but if you think it needs one I'll be sure to put it in. 
> 
> Fanart that inspired the chapter: two again! I started writing with @licorta's fanart in mind, but then it turned into @puddingsu's fanart as well... had to do them both! Please go reblog their art and support it! :D  
> http://licorta.tumblr.com/post/156107067636/i-wish-i-could-explain-but-i-dont-think-i-can  
> http://puddingsu.tumblr.com/post/153467788576/when-tsumugi-finds-someone-who-can-wear-her
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Don't worry, I'm always thinking about this fic and writing it. It's not gonna die if I have anything to say about it! (｀･ω･)9 Please take care of yourselves! Good luck on exams! ^(・∀・)^ .+:｡ﾟ☆


	6. Finding Determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may have given me writer's block for MONTHS and it may be the WORST THING I've ever written, but damn it it's Saihara's birthday tomorrow and I'd be damned if I was going to get it out any later.
> 
> Just... I had no idea where to go for this chapter and writing Iruma was SO difficult for me I needed so much help. That and all-day summer college classes.... not fun. No break for months :(
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! I have a solid plan for at least the next chapter so hopefully it'll be out much quicker, but if not, don't worry! I'm always working on this fic, even if at a SNAIL'S PACE.
> 
> TW for... I guess Iruma's language? And a comatose patient. Be safe!

Saihara stirred the vegetables softly cooking in the pan, the rain outside pattered on the pavement. A song filled the air as he hummed, for once feeling well-rested and hopeful. He finished the meal and spooned the contents into two bowls, bringing them out to the dining table where his father lay.  
  
Saihara had found him as soon as he awoke that morning: hunched over, reading glasses still on his face, with papers scattered everywhere. Saihara had draped a blanket over his shoulders and placed his glasses on the table surface. As he had gathered the papers in his arms, he glanced over the words written in apathetic ink.  
  
_Hospital forms. Credit card bills. Housing Rent and Services bill_ , Saihara recognized. _Saishuu Academy School Fees_ , he read in his head.  
  
The thought made his stomach sick. On top of all the bills they already had to pay, his father was working himself to the bone to send Saihara to a better school as well. The dreadful feeling had only been building slowly over the weeks. Every time he saw the tall gates, the stocked library, the rooms filled with equipment, or the vast expanse of gardens, he could only wonder how they were paying for it all. It certainly wasn't cheap. How could they afford this school with all the hospital bills they needed to pay?  
  
He set the bowls on the table and heard his father stirring. As his father groaned and sat upright, Saihara greeted him.

"Good morning, Father."  
  
His father blinked a few times, bleariness coated in his eyes like a thin layer of honey. Saihara winced at the sight. His father’s eyes, usually so bright and curious, had dulled ever since the traffic accident.

Saihara had noticed changes with both of them. He himself had become more quiet, sullen, and his confidence had all but diminished. He saw the way he started dragged his feet in the months after the accident, the exhausted look in his eyes despite full nights of sleep, how he could barely lift his head from his notes to meet the gazes of his gossiping classmates. Since transferring schools he had gained some of spring back: his steps were lighter and he held his head higher. Probably higher than he had held it ever before.

His father, however, had lost all the youthful energy he always seemed to posses. No matter how many years went by, his father was always energized and ready for an adventure. He grinned like a child and laughed with his belly. Perhaps it was his wife’s influence that made it so.

The day their hearts broke had changed him into more of a ghost than a person. He drifted instead of walked, and his face was always beyond pale. Saihara worried that if he touched him he would disappear into thin air. No longer enthused to go wherever the path may go, his father bore the eyes of a man with the world on his shoulders. His eyes sagged, his breaths were deep and slow, and he slouched whenever Saihara saw him.

As his father slowly reached for the chopsticks a burst of sadness bloomed in Saihara’s heart. _I’ve never seen him so exhausted_ , he realized.

His father didn’t notice his son’s distress in his fatigue. “Thank you, Shuuichi,” he nodded, taking the bowl in his hands. “You’ve been cooking a lot recently, huh?”

Usually Saihara would’ve responded yes, but he heard the tint of regret in his father’s voice and knew it wasn’t the time to say such a thing. “I don’t mind, Father. I know you’ve got your hands full,” he answered instead.

His father hummed as he stirred the vegetables in the bowl, mouth slightly twitched down as if he was working up the mental fortitude to eat. Sometimes eating was more of a struggle than it should’ve been. His father looked back to his son instead, chopsticks pausing in their stirring. “How has school been? I haven’t heard too much from you.”

 _That’s because you haven’t been around_ , an aggrieved part of him snapped. Saihara smiled, ignoring the bitter feeling consuming him. It would destroy his father to hear him say that.

So he talked about his friends, his classes, and upcoming projects. He mentioned how he had a friend group, everyone at the school was friendly and welcoming, and that he was having fun. He was, truly.

Yet despite how much joy he found in talking about his new school, the only thing Saihara could focus on was his father and how he had aged so much since his son had last seen him. Saihara missed coming home to a house that wasn’t empty, missed sharing meals with his parents on a daily basis. More than anything he just missed his parents.

Once Saihara had finished talking they fell into silence. Saihara watched his father’s smile briefly unravel, the corners of his mouth dipping down before quickly picking them back up. It hurt that he knew his father was putting up a front. His father picked up his tea and cleared his throat lightly before speaking.

“Shuuichi...”

Saihara looked back into his eyes. His father seemed to be turning over his words in his head, deciphering which phrasing would be best. It was a trait Saihara had inherited from him. After a minute or so he seemed to come to a conclusive sentence and spoke.

“Do you... like it here? At your school?”

Saihara smiled at that. Yes, he did love his school, very much so. He nodded.

His father’s smile tightened imperceptibly. “Would you do anything to stay there?” he asked.

The question worried Saihara. His father was acting strangely. Where was he going with this topic? But the thought of going back to a place like his old school, or worse, actually going back to his old school, filled him with insurmountable fear and dread. The possibility of going back to the isolation, the insult-laced gossip, the harsh shoves, the sneers, and the cruel laughter daunted him.

As soon as he’d learned that a school like Saishuu Academy existed, he resolved to never go back. He was wanted, appreciated, and included there. Not only were the people kind, but he also found himself with people he could truly call friends. He enjoyed the campus, the people, everything. He wasn’t going back. Not if he could help it.

So, he answered.

“Yes, I would.”

His father didn’t move. Saihara was about to ask if anything was wrong before his father sighed deeply. His shoulders slumped, and he chuckled humorlessly. He smiled grimly into his tea cup, watching the steam rise from the liquid.

“I see.”

The room was silent save for the rain outside. As his father continued eating, Saihara tried and failed to come up with words. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what it was or how to change it. The more time passed, the more his father’s words worried Saihara. The thought of his father working to death churned unpleasantly in his gut.

As he chewed, he realized that he could not just sit back and do nothing. _I have to do something,_ he thought as a burning resolve slowly took hold of him. He thought over various possibilities before coming up with a plan.

 _All right_ , he decided.

_Time to fix this._

—

“A job?”

Saihara nodded.

He had brought up the issue during lunchtime in his usual circle. Thankfully the clouds had cleared and they were able to sit on the rooftop as usual. While he neglected to tell them about the details _why_ he needed money, he trusted them to help. If he could get a job while his father worked, maybe they would have enough to not worry about so many bills. Even if Saihara could pay for groceries with his job, even that would save a lot of money further on.

Momota frowned as he gulped down a bite of his sandwich. “Can students here even have part-time jobs? I know at other schools it’s not allowed.”

Saihara felt his heart drop slightly. _I hadn’t even thought of that..._

Kiibo piped up. “You are correct, Momota-kun. Most schools do not allow part-time jobs while students are in school.”

Saihara felt his heart sink further into his stomach.

“But, that doesn’t mean there’s no way of obtaining money,” he continued, eyes sharply inquisitive as always. “It would have to be a job approved by the school. If you could work for the school and gain money that way, there should be no problem.”

Akamatsu looked hopeful as she exclaimed, “That’s it then! Saihara-kun can work for the school! He doesn’t have an elective yet, so he can use that time to work!”

Saihara felt his spirits lifting. Maybe it wasn’t as hopeless as he thought it was.

“He may not even need to work,” Harukawa added. “If his family needs more money, he can simply apply for a scholarship from the school.”

“Ah, about that...” Saihara fidgeted. “I’m pretty sure I’m already on a scholarship. I doubt we would’ve been able to afford the full price of tuition anyway.”

The group grew silent, broken by a small ‘damn’ from Momota. He turned toward Saihara and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “You’re in a really tight spot, aren’t you?”

Saihara nodded, subtly biting his lip.

The group continued to sit in silence, all mulling over ideas silently. Several minutes passed before a voice spoke up.

“Perhaps I can help.”

Saihara glanced at Kiibo. He had a furrow in his brow, the kind of look he got sometimes when he was mulling over something important. Kiibo noticed him staring and cleared his throat. “Have you heard of the Saishuu Academy’s Robotics Club, Saihara-kun?”

Saihara shook his head. Kiibo elaborated, “The robotics club is a team of students in the academy that spend their time after and during school creating unique devices and sometimes robots.”

Saihara remembered Kiibo occasionally having a small handheld device and tinkering with it during lunchtime. In fact, that had happened the first time Saihara had ever joined them for lunch. _How long has he been a part of this club?_ Saihara wondered.

Kiibo was still talking. “Every year, there is a competition on the prefecture and national levels. The academy must enter a robot to be judged depending on how useful it is, what kind of technology was used to build it, and how well it completes its designated task. The winning team receives a prize, both to the school and to the members themselves. How much depends on whether you placed first, second, or third.”

The group hummed in understanding. Akamatsu jumped in the conversation when Kiibo paused. “That’s amazing! Kiibo-kun, have you ever been to the competition? What’s it like?”

“Very intimidating,” Kiibo shook his head. “Many talented engineers flock to the competition. Saishuu Academy prides itself on talent and resources, but the other schools are not to be underestimated either.”

Each student looked deep in thought, until Momota interrupted. “Wait, how’s this going to help Shuuichi with getting a job?”

“Ah, that,” Kiibo began, a determined gleam growing in his eyes. “If we win, we can give our prize money to Saihara-kun!”

Saihara, who had been eating a wad of rice, promptly choked. After a few wheezes and some hard slaps from Harukawa and Momota alike, the rice had passed painfully enough.

“Kiibo-kun, I can’t do that,” he wheezed out. “It would be your money that you earned because you worked hard. I couldn’t accept that.”

“Nonsense, Saihara-kun!” Kiibo admonished. “My family has more than enough money. This prize means nothing to me or my father.” Kiibo took a bite of his chips ( _Really, is he getting enough nutrition?_ Saihara wondered) before adding on, “Besides, you will be helping me.”

Harukawa beat him to it. “How will that work? Last I checked Saihara-kun wasn’t skilled at making robots.” She then twitches her eyebrow in thought and turned to him, “Unless–”

“No, Harukawa-san, being skilled at chores and cooking does not mean I can build robots,” Saihara quickly dismissed. Even the idea of building a robot was beyond what he could comprehend. All the circuitry and mechanical prowess needed to win was completely foreign to him.

“So if Shuuichi can’t build a robot for ya, how’s he gonna win?” Momota asked. He scrambled to catch his sandwich wrapper as it started to float away in the wind.

Saihara’s mind started to scramble. _How on Earth am I going to build a robot? I know nothing about them! Certainly not enough to win a competition! But if this doesn’t work out, what will? How am I going to find a job when the school prohibits it?_

“Don’t worry,” Kiibo answered. “All he’ll have to do is help Iruma-san and I. We’ll build the machine, all he must do is assist us.”

“Assist... as in, holding tools and stuff?” Akamatsu asked.

“Yes. Handing us tools, organizing our blueprints, and giving outsider’s opinions. These tasks shouldn’t be too difficult, and if we win prize money he can feel as if he’s earned it.”

Saihara began to calm at his words, but he had to make sure his friend wasn’t at risk. “Are you sure about this, Kiibo-kun? I mean, if you get in trouble it could put your Dad in danger too, right? Professor Iidabashi teaches the engineering classes here, right?”

Kiibo beamed at him. “Have no fear, Saihara-kun! This is completely within the rules of the competition. We’ll be competing fairly, and any money I win I can give to you!”

Saihara’s heart flooded with gratitude and disbelief. He didn’t deserve Kiibo as a friend. Or any of his friends, but specifically Kiibo in that moment.

As they finished their lunch, a new resurgence of hope filled Saihara. He’d have to be sure to thank him personally later. It would be a while before got it, but maybe the money would ease his father’s strain. If he really was banned from having a job outside of school, this was his only option.

He hoped it would be enough.

—

“Amami-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going home tonight.”

Amami lifted his head from his book to look at Ouma across the table. Ouma had his notebook open, various doodles and annotations littering the page. If Amami squinted, it even looked like he had drawn one of their teachers breathing fire with huge spiky teeth and claws. _Ouma-kun never did like that guy_ , Amami mused. He watched the way Ouma’s eyes swept the paper as he drew, thoroughly fixated on his notes before responding. “Going out?” he asked.

“Yep. Got a meeting tonight.”

Amami hummed. He stayed silent as his thoughts turned themselves over in his head.

A few more minutes passed before Ouma had decided he was done with studying and began to stand up from the table, collecting his things. He had taken a few steps from the table when Amami called out to him.

“Ouma-kun?”

He paused, turning to face Amami.

“You’ll be safe, won’t you?”

Ouma’s smile curled at the edges and his eyes crinkled. There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he spoke.

“Oh please, Amami-chan,” he chuckled as he turned away. “As _if_ anyone could threaten me.”

The room was dead silent save for the click of his shoes as he walked away.

—

The pathway Kiibo led him down felt like a maze more than a myriad of school hallways. Fourth period had started and Kiibo had quickly started walking with Saihara to the robotics classroom. They made pleasant chatter along the way, mentioning school projects and upcoming exams. After the fourth turned hallway corner, Saihara finally worked up the courage to be upfront with Kiibo about how he felt.

“Kiibo-kun?”

“Yes?” Kiibo answered attentively.

Saihara felt himself relax. “Just... thank you. For all of this. I know it would probably be easier for you not to involve yourself, so... thank you,” he repeated, shining Kiibo a genuine smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Saihara-kun,” Kiibo spoke softly. He turned his head to the side. “I truly... value your friendship. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since you got here. It would mean nothing more to me than to repay you for that kindness.”

Saihara felt his cheeks grow warm at the praise. “Okay.”

The two shared smiles as they walked through the hallway. As Kiibo turned a corner he stopped several steps away from a door. If Saihara was being honest, the door looked a little worn for wear. The hinges were loose and the door itself seemed to be scattered with various scrapes and scratches. _What could have happened here?_ he wondered.

Kiibo broke the silence as he opened the door. “I wonder if Iruma-san–”

“CLOSE THAT FUCKING DOOR!”

The boys jolted at the sound of an explosion following the shout. They both narrowly dodged the pieces of debris the flew out, crouching beside the door for a few seconds until the dust had settled. Saihara slowly peeked around the door to see his classmate Iruma, standing in the room with a uniform covered in soot and dust. She lifted the welding mask from off her forehead and threw it on the ground. The clash reverberated on the walls, making Saihara jump.

“God fuckin’ dammit!” she screamed in frustration.

Kiibo stood up and hurriedly made his way over. Saihara quickly gained his bearings and followed him. As Kiibo went up to Iruma, Saihara scanned his surroundings. Inside the classroom were various equipment that hung from the walls, several opened toolboxes that were scattered around the workbenches, and a very black mark that had scorched itself on the area right by Iruma.

 _The place certainly could use some reorganization_ , Saihara noted. _Maybe that’s what I can do on my first days of helping out here?_

“Iruma-san! What happened?!” Kiibo exclaimed, eyes wildly tracing the burnt mark on the workbench.

She ran a hand through her hair, frizzy from the explosion. “Our prototype was a piece of shit, that’s what!”

“Iruma-san I told you it had some imperfections I hadn’t sorted through yet! Why did you test it?!”

“Shitdicks like you never have the balls to test your damn machines! If I hadn’t tested it now you’d still have been makin’ adjustments to it the week before we had to enter the damn thing!”

The two continued to go back and forth. Saihara had the distinct feeling that he showed up at the worst possible time. Should he come back later when all this was sorted out? He cleared his throat, ready to let Kiibo know he’d come back another day. “Um–”

He lost all the words he was about to say when Iruma snapped her head over, blue eyes piercingly sharp. Saihara could almost feel a steel-edged knife perforating his skin wherever she looked at him. She snapped her head back to Kiibo and jerked her thumb crudely in Saihara’s direction. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Saihara-kun is going to be helping us while we work on our entry for the competition,” Kiibo responded calmly.

“What, him?” Iruma scoffed. She swung her hips around to face him and yelled, “Oi, limp dick! Do you know a thing about robotics and engineering?”

Saihara swallowed. “Um, no.”

“Then get the fuck out!”

“Calm down, Iruma-san,” Kiibo interjected. “I am aware Saihara-kun knows nothing about our field. He’s going to be our assistant up until the competition.”

“Huh? Assistant?” she asked incredulously. Iruma examined Saihara, scrunching her face tighter. Then the cut of her eyes morphed into a glint, a satisfied and smug smirk making its way onto her face. She cocked her hips and put her hands on them. “Hey scrub! You think you’ve got what it takes to be an assistant to the wondrous Iruma Miu?”

Saihara blinked at her change in demeanor. “Yes. I will do my best to aid you in your efforts toward the competition.”

Iruma shuddered at his response, a disgusted look crossing her face. “Who the fuck let the old man in here?” she whispered indiscreetly. “His way of talking is ancient!”

Kiibo facepalmed, sighing wearily.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Iruma continued on unfazed, her posture confident and demanding. She pointed to the room, gesturing at the mess. “If you really want to help, start by cleaning this up, Cuckhara!”

Saihara tried his best not to grimace at the name. It was going to be a long hour.

—

Ouma stepped through the hallways on his way back to the classroom. Fortunately his elective classroom was rather close to homeroom, so he took his time. He skipped and sauntered on his way, ignoring the strange looks the other students were giving him. If he played his cards right, maybe he would catch a certain someone on their way to the class. Preferably–

“Ouma-kun?”

Ouma grinned widely to himself before turning around. Saihara came walking his way, footsteps a bit wobbly and appearance in shambles. His shirt was untucked in some places, and parts of his uniform jacket were covered in dust. His hands looked scratched, scraped, and burned, and his hair all over the place. Ouma studied his face, looking for signs of injury or distress. Instead he saw Saihara’s eyes, bright as ever, looking his way without any hidden affliction at all. Besides his disheveled clothes, he looked completely normal.

Ouma quickly walked up to him. “Saihara-chan, what happened? You’re all banged up!” he asked frantically.

Saihara sighed as he stepped in line with Ouma and continued walking. Saihara stepped slowly as if to prolong their time together, and Ouma did his best not to squeal when he noticed. He smiled quietly to himself before returning his gaze to Saihara’s face.

Saihara explained. “I decided to help out in the robotics club for my elective, and I just got back from having to clean up everything.” He shuddered. “There was so much to clean,” he whispered.

Ouma giggled. “Kiibo-chan and Iruma-chan got you working like a dog, huh?” At Saihara’s protests, he continued. “Say, Saihara-chan, why are you joining the robotics club? As far as I was aware you didn’t have any engineering background.”

Ouma held his gaze as Saihara stared at him through lidded eyes. After a few moments of silence it became clear that Saihara did not want to answer. _That_ peaked Ouma’s curiosity. _Why would he not want to answer?_ he wondered. _Is there something I shouldn’t know?_

After a few seconds Saihara dropped his gaze. He looked ahead before he began to answer. “I... needed some help. Kiibo-kun offered a way through the robotics club. I’m... not sure how to get it elsewhere. I just–”

Ouma stopped him by placing a hand on his arm. Saihara cut off whatever he was going to say and turned to him. Ouma hoped his sincerity was shining through when he answered.

“You don’t need to tell me Saihara-chan,” he said softly. “I can tell it’s hard for you to say. Just... tell me when you’re ready.” At this Ouma quirked a smile and lifted his head further. “Okay?”

Saihara gaped at him. If Ouma squinted, it almost looked like Saihara was blushing. _Why is his face red?_ Ouma thought puzzledly. _I didn’t do anything to fluster him this time, did I?_

Before either could speak the bell started to chime, reminding them that class was in session. The boys jumped and quickly started booking it to the classroom. Once they were back in their seats, Ouma sighed, putting his chin in his hands. _He needed ‘help,’ huh?_ Ouma pondered as he frowned. _What kind of help can a robotics club offer that can’t be offered by other clubs?_

Ouma thought for a bit more before he let out a breath and relaxed his face. _Oh well_ , he mused _. If it’s that important, he can tell me later._

—

Saihara had been sitting in his chair for almost half an hour. Usually when Saihara talked about his day with his mother he ran out of words within the first five minutes. He then would try to fill the rest of the time by reading a book to her. Today, however, he couldn’t stop talking, almost babbling as the walls echoed his excitement.

“...And then, Harukawa-san threw Momota-kun’s sandwich in his face! We were already laughing, but Akamatsu-san’s reaction was so funny we just laughed harder. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone’s eyes grow that wide!”

He laughed as he recalled the event. As his giggles tapered off he sighed, for once relaxed since he had started visiting this stuffy hospital room. “I’m having so much fun, Mother. I’m always surprised every day and everyone is so fun to be with. It–It’s more than I could have imagined before I got here.”

She hadn’t moved, but Saihara could swear she was smiling somehow. Maybe it was the lighting. Either way, he loved talking about his experiences with her, even if she couldn’t respond.

“There’s another friend I have too. You’d laugh, but he stole my hat when I first got here. I thought he was just going to be another bully, but then, he wasn’t! It shocked me at first, but he was trusting and didn’t push when I didn’t want to say,” Saihara’s voice had subdued while he talked, his words becoming just short of a whisper. “He’s been... really kind, actually. I wasn’t expecting that of him.”  

As he paused his thoughts wandered to that afternoon. He remembered turning to see Ouma with a frown and eyes swimming in worry. It threw him for a loop to see Ouma so concerned, especially since his expression seemed genuine. Then he had spoken and told Saihara that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to. Warmth had flooded through his chest and he had blushed before he could stop it.

Once again Ouma had proven that he could be trusted with something so personal. He groaned quietly when he thought of how flushed he must have looked. _I’m really getting obvious_ , he thought with dismay.

He paused. _Obvious... with what?_

—

Saihara walked home with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He hummed as he unlocked the door and set his bags down. He was about to start dinner in the kitchen when something caught his eye.

His father was sitting at the table, directly facing him with a stern look.

Saihara brightened. “Welcome home, Father.”

His father didn’t smile. Instead he motioned for Saihara to sit across from him.

Saihara made his way over to the table. He couldn’t help but feel joy that his father was home, but something was troubling him about his expression. He sat down at the opposite end of the table, legs folded. He was about to ask what was wrong when his father spoke.

“Shuuichi,” he said in a cold voice. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me filling the chapter with various hints for the next: Y'all already know wtf is going on
> 
> Notes for this chapter:  
> \- Jobs in Japanese high school: Yes, as far as I'm aware students having jobs is not allowed. Poor Saihara :(
> 
> And that's it! Yikes I gotta rush to a doctor's appointment but I hope you like this chapter! The next one should be fun since I've been waiting to write it since the beginning. I love you all! See you soon! ( ^ u ^)/


	7. The Will to Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, rolling up on heelies with bags under my eyes: Depression fucking SUCKS, my dudes.
> 
> Also, you thought that angst tag was just there for show? Well buckle your seats kiddos it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
> 
> TW for panic attacks! Be safe <3

Saihara panted harshly as his feet hit the wet pavement. He was running, running, running, running so fast and without reserve that he could barely feel the sting of the rain on his shoulders. He hadn’t bothered to take an umbrella or a coat, and he would most likely be shivering uncontrollably had it not been for the fire in his lungs and legs.

He couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going. All he could hear were the words from his father just that evening.

_Shuuchi. I didn’t want you to worry but... it’s time that you know._

Saihara continued to run, turning corners whenever he met an end. The scenery blurred around him.

_Shuuichi, we’re almost out of money. I’ve been working three jobs to avoid it, but it’s still not enough._

He couldn’t tell if he had been here or not. Had he been here before?

_If we keep going at this rate, we won’t be able to afford anything. The apartment, food... anything._

Where was he? Shouldn’t he have run into something familiar by now?

_We’re already in so much debt. I can’t take out any more loans._

Everything hurt. His head, his heart, his eyes, everything.

_I knew there was a solution, but I didn’t want to consider it._

The sound of his feet slapping the ground was the only thing that kept him grounded. _Tok, tok, tok_ , like a heartbroken metronome.

_I kept hesitating, pushing the decision away until later. I couldn’t fathom doing such a thing._

_Tok, tok, tok,_ away from the pain. _Tok, tok, tok,_ away from what he knew.

_It wasn’t until we talked this morning that I realized something._

How long had he been running? Five minutes? Ten minutes? An hour?

_Your mother... it’s been a long time since she was in that wreck._

The water on his face felt warm, despite the frigid feeling in the rest of his body.

_We were so fortunate when the hospital near here said they would take her. The hospital is much nicer than the old one but... it’s also more expensive._

Saihara’s lungs were in pain. They felt as if a fire was consuming them. It burned and burned.

_You’ve been so happy at your new school too. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted for you. But if we don’t change something, you won’t be able to stay there._

He had to keep running. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t _stop._

_Shuuichi. I don’t want for you to have to give up your current life for someone that may not come back._

Breathing was so hard. Why was breathing so _hard?_

_Shuuichi._

_No!_ Saihara screeched in his head. _No, no, NO!_

_I think it’s time we pulled the plug._

Saihara’s legs gave out on him. He tripped and crashed into a nearby alley, skidding to a halt on the ground. He laid there in a heap of limbs, his body refusing to move. He lay there, trembling, trying to muster the energy to pick himself back up. His mind was still swirling as his body began to shiver violently, lungs heaving. The shirt on his back, bereft of a coat, had soaked through with the rain and was muddied by his fall.

Saihara shakily picked himself up from the ground, crawling over to the wall and sitting against it. His limbs protested, but the texture of the brick wall through his shirt felt soothing. He tilted his head back on the wall, his lungs continuing to gulp down air. His mind remained blank as the rain continued to pour down his face.

It was dark. He was cold. His body was spent.

He sat in the rain, trying and failing to get any feeling in his limbs. His breaths slowly evened themselves out as the rain ran through his hair. His clothes were completely soaked through, and his mind was in a constant state of static. The sounds of the rain filled his ears on an otherwise quiet night.

“Ah! A boy!”

Despite of his exhaustion Saihara whipped his head around to see a little girl further down the alley. Her long hair, though hard to see in the dark, was slightly braided on the side of her head before falling down on her shoulders. Her clothes were civilian, but with perhaps a bit more black than the usual passerby. What caused Saihara to jump, however, was her face.

Hiding her face was the mask of a clown, distinctly horrifying in the dying light of the streetlamp. There were crosses instead of eyes, a red nose, and small lips on an otherwise starkly white face. She also had a black and white checkered handkerchief wrapped around her arm.

“Ace, did you find someone?” a deep voice called.

Before he knew it, more and more people dressed like the girl began to emerge from the back alleyway. They all wore varying clown masks and checkered handkerchiefs tied to their body. As they slowly approached him, Saihara felt hooks of fear plunge through his body and snag his insides. _Oh god,_ he thought. _Is this a gang?_

Now he’d really gone and gotten himself into trouble.

“Ooh, what a charming young boy!” an older woman cooed. The huge lips on her mask made her appearance more intimidating than welcoming.

“He looks lost,” a teenage boy noted.

“Maybe he wants to join?” a girl excitedly prompted.

“No, I don’t think he knows who we are,” a large man pointed out.

A very tall man with an afro stepped out in front of them all, silencing them. “We can’t be too careful, he could be a rat sent to set us up.”

At this point Saihara had no idea what was going on. He was tired, he was scared, and the chatter was only serving to make his nerves skyrocket. With shaking legs, he used the brick wall for support to lift himself up.

“Oh look, the poor boy’s so frightened,” a man with a snooty voice remarked.

Saihara took as deep of breaths as his lungs would allow him. He braced himself against the wall, his legs shaking with the effort. The pain made his eyes shut tightly, his lungs breathing quickly to compensate. When he was finally standing upright he lifted his eyes, only to jolt at what he saw. Through his struggle, he hadn’t noticed the others surround him.

He turned toward the entrance of the alleyway, only to find it blocked by several clown masks.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go back out that way if I were you,” a man told him, his clown smile wide.

“Yes, it’s much safer with us!” the cheerful girl added.

“What are ya thinkin’ of runnin’ for, anyway?” a man with wildly gelled-up hair asked.

It was too much. The crowding, the questions, the stone-cold masks that completely encircled him. Saihara had never felt more terrified in his entire life. _Go away_ , Saihara begged. _Go away!_

“G-gh,” he stuttered, voice feeble and winded. “G-go... away.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be like that,” the older woman responded, stepping even closer. “We’re only here to help you!”

The man with the gelled hair also stepped forward. “Yeah, and it was _you_ that came to _us_ , kiddo,” he added.

The air in Saihara’s lungs was flowing in and out too quickly. They were getting closer and they weren’t _leaving_ . His mind scrambled to remember Chabashira’s training techniques. _Remember_ , her voice came filtering through his head, _Aikido is a form of self-defense. It’s designed to give you an opportunity to run away._

Saihara felt so overwhelmed. All he wanted to do was leave. Slowly, shakily, Saihara lifted up his arms to the defense position that Chabashira had taught him. “P-please l-l-leave,” he stammered.

The man with the haughty voice scoffed. “He doesn’t honestly intend to fight all of us here, does he? He’s clearly outnumbered.”

Saihara’s arms trembled, his lungs inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, and exhaling. _Please_ , his mind repeated, _please please please please please just go away!_

The little girl stepped forward, far too close to him. They were all so _close_ , why were they all so _close?_

“No,” she said. “We’re not leaving until you–”

Saihara didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. He didn’t hear anything. Suddenly his breath was too fast, his mind too chaotic, and he was so _scared_ that he couldn’t focus on anything. His back slid down the wall as his legs collapsed in a trembling heap, hands coming up to make fists in his hair. His arms caged around him, hiding his face away from them all. He was shaking so much.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t _breathe–_

“...boss........see this...”

Saihara could barely hear anything over the roaring in his ears. He couldn’t move. All he could see and hear were the memories, replaying over and over in front of him. Clown masks spinning around him and encircling him, his father’s broken eyes piercing his heart. Each figure spoke, making a cacophony of voices.

_You’ll have to go back there pull the plug we’re already in so much debt it’s been a long time since she’s been in that wreck pull the plug wouldn’t go that way if I were you clearly outnumbered we’re not leaving pull the plug I didn’t want you to worry–_

“.....ra-chan?”

The panic was overwhelming. He was going to die, in pain and out of breath in a random, cold, dark alley with a bunch of strangers crowding around his corpse. His lungs were aching and refused to work properly. His own harsh breaths were deafening on his ears.

“Saiha...chan......hear me?”

Through his panic Saihara could hear a voice, but only just barely.

“Saihara-chan.......be okay..........hear me? You’re going...be okay.”

He couldn’t tell whose voice it was or where it came from, but it was something apart from the voices in his head. Saihara relished in it.

“Saihara-chan, listen to me. I need you to take deep breaths for me, okay?”

Saihara struggled to do as the words said. The voice stayed, calm and clear, telling Saihara patiently what to do.

“Deep breath in... deep breath out.”

The voice broke through the chaos in his head, giving him something to focus on.

“Yeah, that’s it. Breathe in... breathe out.”

It felt like hours before the panic had faded and his lungs were working properly again. It wasn’t until he was significantly calmer than before that he realized he recognized the voice, though he couldn’t place it yet.

“Breathe in... breathe out. Breathe in... breathe out. You’re doing just fine.”

When Saihara had calmed down enough, he slowly lowered his arms that had been hiding his face, and looked up at the voice. Staring back at him were violet eyes, dark with the night sky, and a mask pushed up against a small forehead.

Ouma was kneeling on the ground right in front of him, hands on Saihara’s shoulders. Saihara took several moments to process what he was seeing. Then he quietly choked out, “O-ouma... kun?”

“Sssh,” Ouma whispered. “It’s not safe to say my name around here.”

Saihara began to look around at his surroundings, only to have his face pointedly moved back to facing Ouma’s again. Ouma’s hands had moved from his shoulders to his cheeks, holding Saihara’s face in his hands.

“Hey,” he said. “Let’s get you out of the rain, hmm?”

Saihara stared blankly at him, energy drained. He slowly nodded. Ouma took his hands and hoisted him up, draping a long coat over his shoulders. With a hand across Saihara’s back gripping his shoulder, Ouma led him away; out of the rain, and out of the dark alley.

—

Ouma opened the door to the apartment with one hand, swinging it carefully open. The lights were dim. _Good,_ Ouma thought. _Amami-chan seems to have gone to sleep._

He guided Saihara into the foyer, closing the door behind them. He momentarily left his friend’s side so he could turn on the lamp by the couch. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and a blanket for good measure before coming back.

Saihara had hardly moved, staring down at his feet while water dripped from his hair. Ouma sighed, throwing the towel over his head and rubbing Saihara’s hair gently.

“You’ll get a cold if you don’t dry off, silly,” he said softly.

Saihara glanced up slightly, staring dazedly into his eyes. Ouma sobered at the sight. The same agony Ouma had witnessed in the alley was still swimming in Saihara’s eyes. Whatever storm he was going through had not yet passed. Saihara had been smiling with him just a few hours ago. _What happened?_ Ouma thought desperately. _Why is he so sad?_

Ouma’s throat closed up, clogged with worry. “Let’s...” Ouma trailed off, struggling to speak. “Let’s get you out of those shoes, hmm? Can’t track water all over the place after all.”

After a few minutes of slipping off shoes, rapid towel-drying, and a trip to the bathroom to change into spare clothes, Saihara was now seated on the couch, head tilted downward. He was wearing Amami’s clothes: sweatpants with a long-sleeved shirt. Ouma had to sneak around Amami’s room and snatch them secretly, but he knew it was necessary. As much as Ouma hated to admit it, there was no way Saihara would have fit in _his_ clothes. He was small enough to be regarded as a child to many unsuspecting adults. (On the plus side, he did get many child-related discounts. He figured he would enjoy this power while it lasted.)

Ouma noted that Saihara wasn’t shivering anymore, but his skin was still pale. At this rate, Saihara really would get sick. He grabbed a blanket from off the couch and draped over the other’s shoulders. His hands cupped Saihara’s face through the blanket, leaning down to eye level. Saihara looked up into Ouma’s eyes.

Ouma did his best to smile around the sinking pit in his stomach. “Try to warm yourself up, okay? I’m going to get you some tea.”

As he padded over to the kitchen, Ouma spared a glance over his shoulder. Any other time, he would’ve thought that Saihara looked cute wrapped up in a fluffy blanket on the couch. Any other time, he would’ve been beyond excited to have his crush sitting on his couch. Well, technically, Amami’s couch.

Saihara showing up in an alley, in the pouring rain, having a panic attack was not in the remote range of what he had expected tonight. While in the middle of a DICE meeting, no less. The fact that he even found them was incredible on its own, considering the group did its best to remain out of sight.

Ouma sighed, bringing the tea over to where Saihara was sitting. He had drawn up his legs so that they were criss-crossing under the blanket and had more securely wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. His head and neck were clearly visible. Ouma stifled a giggle when he saw how mussed Saihara’s hair was. The towel must have really done a number on his silky strands.

He handed the steaming mug to Saihara, who took it after a moment. Saihara sipped the mug and hummed. “It smells like lavender,” he observed, staring into the cup.

Ouma sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch, facing Saihara. “I used Toujou-chan’s blend. I wouldn’t have been able to make good tea otherwise,” he explained. “Amami-chan complains how all my teas end up tasting like burnt soap.” Ouma pouted as he crossed his arms. “He’s so mean.”

Saihara laughed softly. “I doubt it’s that bad. If they’re anything like your cookies, I’m sure it tastes fine.”

Ouma willed the blush away from his cheeks at the fact that Saihara had eaten his cookies. Sure, he had given them to him, but he didn’t expect Saihara to actually _eat_ them.

There was silence as the moment ended. The rain continued to pour outside.

“Saihara-chan,” Ouma began. “What happened out there?”

The sudden downturn of Saihara’s lips made it clear he didn’t want to answer. Ouma’s heart sunk, but he persisted. “Why were you out in the rain?”

Saihara still gave no answer.

Pain flared in Ouma’s chest, but he had to keep trying. “Saihara-chan...You know you can rely on me. You’re my–my treasured friend. If there’s something I can do to help you, I–”

Ouma cut himself off when he heard a stifled giggle. Saihara ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up to where Ouma could see his face.

He was crying.

Saihara continued to giggle, but it sounded lifeless. The breathy chuckles were full of sorrow. Tears continued to pool in his watery eyes.

Ouma’s eyes were wide with shock. He was so confused. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know what to do.

Saihara’s chuckles tapered off, hand falling from his hair to wrap around the mug again. It was only when the tears fully started cascading down his cheeks that he replied. “Hey, Ouma-kun... what’s the point of wishing for something if it won’t come true?” The tears continued to spill. “What’s the point in hoping for it, if it won’t happen?” Saihara’s voice became more jaded with every word. “What’s the point in working so hard for something, only to have to give it up when you’ve come so far?”

Ouma was speechless. He could only recall a few times in his life where he couldn’t come up with anything to say. He especially didn’t want to say something wrong in a situation as fragile as this one. So his mouth remained void and hollow.

Saihara spoke again, voice broken and tone cross. “We’ve been working so hard. We’ve been doing all that we can. Why wasn’t it enough?” He was becoming angrier by the second, though Ouma knew his anger wasn’t directed at him. “Why weren’t _we_ enough? Why are we never enough?!”

All the anger seemed to dissipate from his voice, hopelessness seeping through in its place. “I thought things were turning around. I thought everything would be better,” he said in a small voice. His head dipped down, face hidden from view. “I...I thought...”

Saihara didn’t go on. Silence stretched between them.

He didn’t know what to say. For all the words Ouma had used before in his life, none of them felt right. He didn’t know how to remedy any of this. He didn’t know how to approach the situation, but for Saihara, he could try.

Ouma sighed, standing up and making his way over to the couch. He sat down beside Saihara, quickly wrapping his hands around his shoulders and tugging the other boy’s head down to his own shoulder. He felt more than heard Saihara gasp at the change in position. Even through the fabric of his shirt Ouma could still feel Saihara’s warm breathing.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ouma started. “You don’t have to say what’s wrong. But,” he paused to swallow. “If you _don’t_ tell me what’s wrong, I won’t be able to help you.”

Saihara seemed to sink further into Ouma’s embrace, but said nothing.

“I... I want to help you. I want to help you Saihara-chan,” Ouma continued, urgency flowing into his tone. “For now though,” he said as he clutched the boy tighter. “For now just grieve. Feel whatever your feeling, and we can talk about it later. If you need to cry, Saihara-chan, I won’t judge you.”

Saihara did nothing at first. Then his hands grasped onto the front of Ouma’s shirt. Ouma tilted his head so it rested against the other’s. After a few seconds had passed Ouma felt a wetness in his shirt, followed by several hiccups. It wasn’t long before Saihara delved into sobs, desperately holding onto Ouma like a lifeline.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Ouma whispered. “We’re both okay. It’s going to be alright.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know whether his words would help at all. He only spoke them because he had heard them himself countless times. Amami often held him like this, whispering words such as these when he most needed them.

Saihara sobbed harder.

Ouma squeezed him tighter. “I’m here for you.”

It was a long time that they sat there, holding onto each other. Saihara’s sobs weren’t as loud or obnoxious as Ouma’s tended to be, nor nearly as messy. Rather, it was quiet and subdued, as if Saihara were still holding back. Anytime he made a sound, he then tensed underneath Ouma’s arms, and all of the crying that followed would be softer than before. It was the kind of crying one would hear in a school bathroom stall.

Ouma turned his head to the sound of Saihara mumbling amid his crying. “Mm...” he got out. “My mom was...in a car ac–accident.”

Ouma’s blood froze.

“It was awful,” he sobbed. “Sh-she fell through the window and the doctors c–couldn’t get there on time and... sh... she...”

His fingers tightening around Saihara’s shoulders.

Saihara buried his head into Ouma’s shoulder. “She’s still...n-not awake. We... we had to move to get her to a new h-hospital b-but... it’s so much money.”

Suddenly their interaction earlier that day made sense. Saihara was joining the Robotics Club as a way to earn prize money from the competition. Ouma had heard Kiibo talk about something along those lines.

“We can’t... Dad and I... can’t pay it all. He... he tries so hard and ha-has three jobs. I thought,” at this he drew in a staggering breath. “I thought it’d be fine but he...he said...”

Saihara’s arms tightened around him. He had a feeling he could guess what his next words would be. “They’re going to pull the plug, huh,” Ouma murmured.

Saihara let out a muffled cry, opting to speak no more. Enough had been said. Saihara continued to cry in the crook of his shoulder.

Ouma continued to hold him, minutes stretching between them as the rain poured incessantly outside.

His neck was sore by the time the crying subsided. His shirt was damp with tears and was still stretching slightly from where Saihara’s hands were tightly grasped onto him. _Saihara-chan must be miserable_ , Ouma thought. _That won’t do._

He came up with an idea.

“Hey, Saihara-chan,” he said gently. “Did you know that a king of France once had a pet peacock that he named ‘Sir Squawks-A-Lot’?” he lied. “He couldn’t do aaaany of his meetings because his peacock would barge in and start squawking at everybody. It even went so far as to eat all the parchment that they wrote laws on. The government was in total chaos, all because of one dumb bird.”

There was a pause before Saihara snickered, shaking his head minutely. “There’s no way that’s true,” he answered.

Ouma just grinned. “Ahh, you saw right through me! Of course I was lying. You’re too smart for me,” he said playfully.

Saihara giggled into Ouma’s shirt.

The sound spurred him on. “What about this one? Did you know that an alligator’s gender is determined by location? All the guys will be on one side of the planet and all the girls will be on the other, so they have to swim 17,000 miles just to so they can bang!”

Saihara huffed. “Now I know that one’s not true. I did a project on alligators in 3rd grade. Alligator gender is determined by temperature. Females are born in colder temperatures and males in warmer. And alligators don’t migrate anyway.”

“Saihara-chan, I can’t fool you if you outsmart me at every turn!” Ouma whined. That wasn’t a lie. He really hadn’t expected him to rebut with such an educated answer. Even while despondent, Saihara was full of surprises.

Ouma switched tactics, grinning wildly. “Betcha didn’t know that Amami once immediately passed out on the floor after eating some bad fish! It took me hooouuurs to wake him up.”

“Really?” Saihara pretended to think. Ouma could feel a small smile slowly growing against his shoulder. “Wouldn’t he have gone to throw up first instead of passing out? That’s usually what happens with food poisoning.”

“Saihara-chan! Why are you so good at this?!”

Saihara just laughed.

The two spent the rest of the night going back and forth, Ouma coming up with bizarre lies on the spot and Saihara disproving them all. It went on for so long that by the time their banter had slowed down, much time had passed.

“Hey Saihara-chan,” Ouma whispered, eyelids growing heavy, “The government isn’t run by people. It’s run by sadistic robot bears that want to kill everyone and make them miserable. Isn’t that the worst?”

He was met with no response.

Peering down, Ouma saw Saihara quietly snoozing on his shoulder. The skin around his eyes was red and tear tracks lined his cheeks, but otherwise his face was calm. His chest rose and fell, hands curled tightly around his shirt.

He didn’t want to risk waking Saihara, especially after what he went through. So instead, he opted to let himself become a pillow. Grasping the blanket that lay in a heap behind Saihara, Ouma lifted it up until it covered them both. He slowly laid down, adjusting his position so that Saihara lay on top of him. His friend still dozed on.

Ouma chuckled to himself. Saihara’s resting face was the last thing on his mind before he found himself dozing off as well. The rain continued to fall outside, pitter-pattering all around them.

—

Ouma awoke the next morning to a dim living room, a pressure on his chest, and a finger incessantly poking his cheek. He groaned, attempted to swat away the offending finger.

“Hey, you up?”

Ouma opened his eyes.

Amami was staring down at him, leaning over the couch.

He rubbed at his eyes blearily. “Amami-chan? What... what time is it...”

“It’s early in the morning,” Amami spoke. “But if you intend to go to school on time you better hustle.”

Ouma lifted his head and glanced at the clock in the kitchen.

_7:04 AM_

“Ugh. Yeah, I’m coming...” Ouma mumbled. He attempted to sit up, but quickly found himself unable to do so. When he looked down, he saw a mess of dark hair and hands still clutching his shirt.

Saihara was still laying on his chest. Neither of the two had budged all night, judging by the position they were in. Saihara’s head was still laying on top of his chest, small snores quietly leaving his lips. A faint trail of drool had even soaked his shirt near the boy’s mouth.

In short, it was _the cutest thing_ he had ever seen _._

A bubbly warmth filled his chest as he smiled. He stroked his hand gently through the other’s hair, stifling giggles when it just made his hair stick in every direction.

“You gonna wake him up for school too?” Amami asked.

Ouma shook his head. “No. He... he went through a lot last night. I think he needs his rest. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Amami nodded, leaving the area to go back to his room. They both were really lucky Amami was such an understanding guy.

Ouma continued to run his fingers through Saihara’s hair, admiring how fine the strands were. _Saihara-chan looks so peaceful,_ he thought, a pleasant calm settling in him. _I’ve never seen him look this peaceful before._ He sobered, thinking of the night before. Never in his life had he ever expected Saihara to look so overwhelmed and tormented before. The emotional distress he had gone through was enough to shock Ouma to his core.

The worst part, however, was that there was nothing he could do about it. The Saihara family matters were none of his business, and even if they were, he didn’t have enough money to save a family from debt. Not anywhere near enough that could help in a situation like this. _What can I do?_ Ouma frowned, worry etched on his features. _What can I do to help him?_

He continued to brush Saihara’s hair as he pondered. None of his trains of thought led him anywhere. Resolving to think about it later, he began to get ready for the day. It took a bit of maneuvering to set Saihara’s gently on the couch but he managed. Saihara’s head lay on the pillow, eyes still closed to the world. Ouma readjusted the blanket so it lay snugly on Saihara’s shoulders, and went off to get ready for school. He came back after ten minutes of shuffling into clothes and scarfing down a piece of toast. His hands softly traced Saihara’s face again, wondering if he’d be all right while they were away.

“Do you think we should leave a note?” Ouma asked.

Amami hummed. “If you want to write him one really quickly, be my guest. I’ll be coming right home after school today, so he won’t be alone for too long.”

After a quick mesh of almost illegible handwriting from Ouma, the pair set off walking. The pavement was still wet from the storm. Despite the fresh morning air, Ouma’s mind still whirled with thoughts about his friend. _Will he be okay? What if he wakes up and doesn’t see the note? What if he panics? What if–_

“So,” Amami interrupted his thoughts. “Wanna tell me why Saihara-kun is on the couch instead of at his home?”

Ouma dipped his head and tried to come up with an answer that would protect Saihara’s confidence. “He...” he started, failing. He tried again. “I was meeting with my group and found him there. He looked pretty scared and he was crying. He was completely soaked from the rain, so I brought him to your place. I thought at least he could dry off and get warm.”

“Good call,” Amami replied. “That was very smart of you. Do you know _why_ he was crying?”

He shook his head, feigning ignorance. “I can’t say much, but I think he got into an argument with his family. He was pretty upset about it.” Suddenly, Ouma remembered. He grasped onto Amami’s arm, halting them in the street. Panic began to fill his voice. “Amami-chan, what about Saihara-chan’s family? Do you think they’re worried about him? What if they’ve called the police to look for him? Is it–”

“Calm down, Ouma-kun,” Amami placated as he place both hands on his shoulders. “I already took the liberty to go through Saihara-kun’s phone while you both were asleep. I’ve already contacted his father and explained the situation.”

Ouma blinked. “And... he was okay with it?”

Amami sighed. “Well... not exactly. He sounded very upset. I can only imagine what it felt like to have your son not come home without a warning.”

Ouma bit his lip. It wasn’t his place to correct Amami on what happened last night. “So is Saihara-chan fine to stay with us?”

Amami shook his head. “I’m not sure. I explained to Saihara-san that his son wasn’t in any condition to leave, seeing as he was passed out and from the looks of it, emotionally drained.” He grimaced. “I just hope those two will be able to sort out whatever happened between them soon. Until them, Saihara-kun’s welcome to stay with us.”

“Thank you, Amami-chan,” Ouma answered. _Well at least he’ll have a place to stay while he recovers_ , he thought. He then shrugged and snickered. “Geez Amami-chan, next time be more aware of people’s privacy. I don’t think Saihara-chan will be happy that you snooped through his phone.”

Amami chuckled. “A breach in privacy to let his family know he’s okay? I’ll take my chances.”

“Really? What are you gonna do if he finds out? Saihara-chan’s very observant after all.”

He shrugged. “I’ll just say his father called him first and I answered it. It’s not that hard to believe given the circumstances.”

Ouma grinned. “I keep forgetting you’re an even bigger liar than I am sometimes.”

Amami smiled with his teeth. “Who, me? I’m just a concerned classmate. You’re the one causing trouble all the time.”

Ouma just laughed.

As the two reached the gates of the school, Ouma still couldn’t concentrate. Saihara’s tear-stained eyes kept haunting him, buzzing around in his mind until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

 _“We’ve been working so hard,”_ Saihara’s words ricocheted in his head. “ _We’ve been doing all that we can.”_

Ouma frowned. _Sure, we’re giving him a play to stay for a bit but...it’s not really solving the problem._ His stomach sank. _It doesn’t feel like it’s enough._

 _“Why wasn’t it enough? Why weren’t_ we _enough? Why are we never enough?!”_

“Hey Amami-chan,” Ouma turned suddenly, flashing a dazzling smile. “Would you mind helping me with a eensy weensy little favor?”

Amami snorted. “It sounds like you’re already getting into mischief this early in the morning.” He shook his head. “All right, what do you need?”

—

“Okay everyone, I know it’s the morning, but we have a lot to go over for the school festival in a few weeks, so settle down _please_.”

Homeroom period had started, and Akamatsu was struggling to maintain composure. As the class representative it was her job to go over school events and get the class’ feedback on them. There was an especial amount of news to go over today, and her classmates weren’t helping. They lazily shuffled, eventually finding their seats and quieting down.

Kaede Akamatsu was having a particular morning, to say the least. ‘Grumpy’ was putting it lightly. From waking up late, to nearly forgetting her homework, to skipping out on breakfast in her rush, everything about today was a mess. As it was, she was just one extra annoyance away from snapping.

“Heeeeeyyy Akamatsu-chaann!! I have something to sayy!!!”

 _Aaaaand there it is_ , she thought. “Ouma-kun, not right now,” she spoke tersely. “Please sit down.”

Ouma did not, in fact, sit down. Instead he strolled over to where she was behind the teacher’s podium and stood right in front of her. “But I’ve got something realllllyyyy important to say, please please please?”

Akamatsu couldn’t hold her anger any longer. “ _Ouma-kun–_ ”

“Akamatsu-chan,” Ouma spoke suddenly.

She stopped. The mirthless expression resting on his face and the dull set of his eyes caught her off guard.

“It’s really important, Akamatsu-chan. I promise.” Then he smiled brightly. “And I promise that if you let me speak, I won’t bother your homeroom speech ever again.”

Akamatsu relaxed her shoulders. Even Grumpy-Kaede could recognize a bargain when she saw one. “Can I hold you to that?” she asked him.

Ouma nodded, smile growing brighter.

She stepped to the side. “Very well. But please be serious about it.”

“Thank you Akamatsu-chan! I knew we were friends!” He exclaimed, way more cheerful than she had expected him to be.

“Yeah, yeah, just say what you want already,” she conceded.

Ouma took several steps and positioned himself in front of the classroom, arms on top of the podium to make his presence more imposing. “Good morning everyone! Thanks to our lovely Akamatsu-chan, I’m going to be borrowing your time for a bit.”

“What the hell?” Akamatsu heard Momota mutter.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed yet, please look around you,” he continued. “As you’ll notice, our dear Saihara-chan is missing!”

“What?! Did you do something to him?!” Chabashira spoke, voice raising. “Did you kidnap him? Wound him? Infect him with the plague?!”

The whole class could see Ouma’s eyes begin to fill up with water. “Chabashira-chan, that’s so horrible... I love Saihara-chan so much.” His lip wobbled. “To think you would even _say_ –”

“Ouma-kun,” Akamatsu interrupted.

“Oh, right.” Ouma blinked, turning serious. “Basically, Saihara-chan’s absent because something awful happened in his life and now he’s super sad. Beyond sad.” His voice softened. “I’ve never seen him so in pain before.”

Silence settled like a heavy blanket over the classroom. Akamatsu felt fear settle in her chest. “Is this true?” she asked shakily.

Upon seeing him nod, Shirogane spoke up. Akamatsu could hear the unease in her voice. “What happened?”

Ouma shook his head. “It’s his business, not mine. That’s not important right now anyway. What _is_ important is that we do our best to cheer him up! And I’ve got a plan. Who’s ready for Operation: Cheer Up Saihara-chan?”

—

It was late afternoon by the time Saihara awoke. Confused by the rough fabric against his cheek, he slowly opened his eyes to an unfamiliar apartment. Instead of blank white walls and tatami mats, what greeted him were beige walls and wooden floorboards.

Typically he would have shot up in alarm, but something about this place felt familiar, even friendly. _Oh_ , _that’s right_ . He rubbed his hand against his forehead. _This is Ouma-kun’s place._ He sat up, noting the fuzzy blanket draped across him. He glanced to his side to see a note placed upon the adjacent coffee table. Seeing it addressed to him, he picked it up and began to read it. Written on cutesy stationary in purple ink were the words:

_Saihara-chan! Read this!!!!!!!_

_It’s me, your favorite and only Ouma Kokichi! (っゝω・)っ～☆_ _Don’t freak out, everything’s okay! Amami-chan and I just decided to go to school and let you sleep. So Rest! Rest! Rest! Don’t worry about school we’ll just tell your teachers you’re sick. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Sleep well my lovely Saihara-chan! ❤_

_Signed, Me ;)_

Saihara smiled at the note. Even through writing Ouma’s exuberant personality shined through. After placing the note back down, he moved to put his feet on the ground. It was then that Saihara noticed the clothes he was wearing were not his. He lifted his arms, feeling the soft fabric of the sleeves. They looked too long to belong to Ouma. Whose were they?

He stopped when he heard a chuckle across the room. Looking over he found not Ouma, but Amami smiling at him with a mug in his hand.

“Glad to see you're finally awake,” Amami greeted cheerfully, taking a gracious sip of his drink.

Saihara stared a bit before replying. “Ah... good morning.”

“Morning?” Amami snorted. “Saihara-kun, it’s after school.”

“What?!” Saihara panicked, looking for his phone and finding it nowhere on the couch or the coffee table beside him.

“Relax, your phone’s charging near the wall,” Amami replied, sensing the source of his distress.

Saihara let out a sigh of relief.

Amami’s smile grew wider. “Want some tea? I was just enjoying a blend myself.”

“If that’s okay,” he hesitantly responded. As Amami moved around the kitchen to make tea, Saihara’s mind began to flood with questions.

_Why is Amami-kun here? This is Ouma-kun’s house right? Where is he anyway?_

“I can see those thoughts spiraling in your head,” Amami spoke as he appeared before Saihara. The aroma reached his nostrils as Amami handed the mug to him. Saihara accepted it with both hands, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ in return. It smelled like the tea Ouma had given him last night.

“So!” Amami started, seating himself in the armchair nearby. “I’ll answer some of your questions, and then you can hopefully answer some of mine. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Saihara would have been put off by such a sudden request, had the tea not already begin to calm his nerves. A few sips and he was relaxed and at peace. Was it the lavender that was so calming?

Saihara nodded. “Alright.” The first question he wanted to ask was–

“First thing’s first, Ouma-kun won’t be here for a few more hours. He’s at his chess club meeting as usual.”

Saihara blinked. _How did he know that’s what I wanted to ask? Wait–_ “I thought chess club meetings were on Wednesdays?”

Amami looked off to the side as he sipped his tea. “He told me something came up. Maybe they’re preparing for a competition or something.”

The answer seemed dubious at best, but Saihara decided not to push it. He looked around the room again and decided to focus on a more pressing concern. “Where is this?”

“This is my apartment,” Amami responded. “It’s not very big, but I’m the only one renting it, so it works out fine.”

“...Oh,” responded Saihara. “How do you pay the rent?”

“Family sends me money each month to cover for rent and food, since our school won’t let me get a job. It was getting too crowded back home, so I moved out to give them some space. My sisters are jealous I get my own place though.”

Saihara paused. This was the first time he had heard about Amami’s family. “You have sisters?”

Amami beamed proudly. “Yep! I’m the eldest of thirteen. I’m also the only boy, which means I’ve got twelve younger sisters to look out for. Quite a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“Oh! That explains my first impression of you,” Saihara exclaimed. At Amami’s confused expression, he continued. “You just gave off this vibe that you were polite to anyone until they crossed you. I think I was sensing your tendency to be protective of people you care about, which would make sense since you have so many siblings...” he trailed off, losing confidence.

Amami stared at him for a minute before letting out a hearty chortle. “You’re very perceptive, Saihara-kun. I’m impressed.”

Saihara fidgeted. “Not, not really...”

He looked around the room, searching for another discussion topic. _Wait,_ he suddenly realized. _Ouma-kun brought me here last night, but this is Amami-kun’s apartment, not his. Was there something preventing him from bringing me to his place? ...Unless–_

He looked around at the living room and saw various items, many of which had Ouma written all over them. He saw post-its taped to the fridge scribbled with the same loopy handwriting as his note. An opened soda bottle sat on the coffee table that he knew didn’t belong to Amami, since he had only ever seen him drinking water or tea. To top it off there was also a coat he’d seen Ouma wearing several times draped across the counter. Ouma clearly stayed here quite often. Why would Ouma’s belongings be scattered about Amami’s apartment?

A thought struck him cold.

“You’ve got quite the perplexed look on your face, Saihara-kun,” Amami observed. “Is something wrong?”

Saihara became flustered at the question. “Um... this may seem out of the blue but...” _Just ask it._ “Are you and Ouma-kun... um, together?”

Amami just stared at him.

Saihara felt sweat start to gather at the back of his neck. “Uh, that is, romantically?” he clarified.

He didn’t want to believe it was true. Thinking about Amami and Ouma together made his stomach tighten and lungs constrict unpleasantly. _But it makes sense, doesn’t it?_ Saihara scolded himself. _It doesn’t matter what you were feeling before, Ouma-kun was just being a good friend._ He frowned, eyebrows pinching tighter together. _What... was I feeling? Why am I feeling so upset?_

Amami cleared his throat. “Wait. You think... Ouma and I are... in a relationship?”

He nodded, ears burning involuntarily.

Saihara jumped in his seat at the sudden sound of laughter. Amami was laughing so hard he sounded like he could barely breathe. He clutched his sides as he continued to laugh, as if whatever he had heard was completely hysterical. Saihara had never seen Amami make so much noise before. To say he was alarmed wouldn’t begin to cover it.

“F-Forgive me, Saihara-kun,” Amami managed amongst his giggles after quite a good minute. “It’s just... oh my god... Ouma and I?” He sat upright and wiped the mirth from his eyes, voice more steady. “Never in a million years.”

“...Uh,” Saihara replied intelligently.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ouma isn’t straight or anything–” Saihara flushed. “–But he’s like a little brother to me. Our relationship is strong, but it’s purely familial.”

“Oh... I see,” he replied slowly. Well, that was a relief... why was it a relief again? He cleared his throat. “Then why are so many of his things here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve been friends for a long time, so he just hangs out here a lot.” Amami then smirked at him, “Ouma’s single by the way.”

Saihara’s words lodged in his throat.

“Well then,” Amami continued, poorly hiding his glee. He was clearly having way too much fun for his own good. “I think I’ve answered all of your questions.”

He swallowed and nodded meekly, his vocal chords still not working after several failed attempts.

Amami’s face turned serious. “Saihara-kun,” he spoke. “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

The temperature in the room dropped. Saihara remained silent.

He sighed. “I suppose you don’t have to tell me. It’s not my business to pry,” he conceded. “But I _do_ think you should call your father. He’s been worried sick about you.”

Saihara sat straight up. “My father?”

“Yes,” Amami answered. “He called your phone several times this morning, so I picked up. I told him you were safe and with your friends. He told me to ask you to call him when you were able to.”

Saihara’s heart clenched as turmoil churned in his gut. He’d been so wrapped up in his own anguish, he couldn’t begin to imagine how his father felt about his only child disappearing at night in a storm.

Amami sensed his hesitation and stood up. He walked over by the wall, unplugged Saihara’s phone, and held it out to him. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit. Whether or not you call him is up to you.”

Saihara took the phone slowly, mind overwhelmed with information.

As he turned to walk down the hallway, Amami called out to him. “For what it’s worth, I think you should call him. Family that loves you and cares about you shouldn’t be taken for granted.” With those words, he continued until he was out of sight.

Saihara sighed, eyeing the phone in his hand. He tapped the screen.

_3:37 PM_

His heart sunk. Normally he'd be visiting is mother right about now.

_37 missed calls. 12 voicemails._

All of them were from his father.

Saihara stared as his phone, contemplating his next course of action. He should be angry. He _was_ angry. After all, how could his own father suggest pulling the plug on his mother? Neither he nor his father had any other living relatives. Ever since his grandparents died when he was younger, It was just the three of them. Letting go of his mother would mean that they would lose even more family.

He was angry. But more than anything he was sad.

He knew they couldn’t keep up with the bills from the hospital, rent, his education, and everything else. His father had sold the car long ago and worked three jobs. Saihara himself scrambled every week to use every coupon he could find when shopping for groceries. His father kept most of the bills from him, but he knew they were probably already in debt. Thinking about it filled him with dread. How long would it be until they couldn’t pay a bill? How long before they were kicked out of their apartment? Before he was taken out of school? It was only a matter of time at this point.

Saihara thought about his father’s proposal. It would hurt, and they would need to arrange for a funeral or a cremation. The funeral would cost money, but without the crushing weight of the hospital bills his father would be able to rest longer. He could quit one or two of his jobs and come home earlier every night. They would be able to stay where they were, in this happier town with happier people.

Saihara didn’t want to leave. He hated his old school, hated the people there, and hated how they treated him. But he hated seeing his father work himself to death even more. He was exhausted all the time, barely ate anything when he was around, and looked dead on his feet. He missed the days when he would come home, a light in his eyes and a spring in his step. He missed talking with his father about something other than school and his comatose mother. He missed his father.

He sighed, fingers raking through his hair as he clenched the phone harder. It had been 6 months since she had gotten in the car crash. He thought he had lost hope already. So why was he clinging onto this so much? Was his father’s suffering worth hanging onto someone who hadn’t been awake for half a year?

 _Maybe_ , he thought, hands shaking. _Maybe it’s time._

Before he lost his nerve, he dialed his father. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

“...Shuuichi?” he heard on the other line. The voice sounded strained and desperate.

Saihara breathed in, eyes stinging as he responded. “Hello, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience with this chapter!! Last fall I really started to spiral into depression and my physical and mental health declined rapidly. I was not in a good place, and could barely write a few words every week. But over winter break I saw a bunch of doctors and now I'm on meds and going to therapy! :D I'm doing much better on so many levels, and it's thanks to all of your positive comments that I kept working on it! They meant so much to me. 
> 
> Notes for the chapter:  
> \- panic attacks: I've never experienced a panic attack, but I asked around and did my best to write it as best I could. Let me know if anything sounds inaccurate!  
> \- DICE: yes, Ouma's group is around in this au. I'll introduce them in a later chapter ;3c  
> \- Ouma's lies: Sir Squawks-a-lot (made up), alligator fact (Saihara is correct). The alligators are a reference to Saihara doing a case on alligators in canon. Believe it or coming up with fake facts was the most difficult part of this chapter for me. 
> 
> And that's it! Thank you for the kudos and comments, they mean so much to me! I'll be busy in the upcoming weeks, so perhaps the next chapter will update around late March or early April. But don't worry, I'll do my best to get it out earlier. Let me know if there are any mistakes! See you next time! ヽ(^◇^*)/


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